#and he knows he was meant to be a pawn his whole life

[musclesandhammering]

Ok but the parallel of Gamora being a scared little girl on a planet that was crumbling and was being invaded by a cosmic fascist who killed half the people and kidnapped her from her family, raising her as his own and grooming her to be his weapon in his further fascist conquests

And Loki… being a scared little boy on a planet that was crumbling and was being invaded by a cosmic imperialist who killed half the people and kidnapped him from his family, raising him as his own and grooming him to be his weapon in his further imperial conquests.

Also: “Everything I hate about myself, you taught me.”

#I’m not saying it’s exactly the same thing but it sure as hell rhymes #I just wish loki was able to fully conceptualise his parental situation the way that gamora seemed to be able to #loki yeah he intellectually knows he was kidnapped from his home by the very man who was destroying it #and he knows he was meant to be a pawn his whole life #but the fact that he was younger than gamora when he was taken and didn’t have any memories of his actual family #combined with the fact that his family allegedly left him to die anyway #makes him sort of cling to Odin as a fatherly figure more than he would otherwise #just as a way to distance himself from his actual parents who he sees as even worse #does that make sense? #anyway #loki meta #loki #gamora meta #Gamora #lokimora #gamoraloki #not rly but tagging just in case #mcu #anti odin #something something something the majority of Loki’s ‘villainous’ character traits really did come from Odin

[lovincherries]

Corio's Pawn

a/n: first of all, I want to say hi! I know it's been a really long time since i've written anything and i wanted to say thank you for your patience. 2023 has easily been the hardest year of my life, and i am so grateful for all your messages and support. it has truly meant the world to me. hopefully you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love you guys! (p.s it's almost been a year since i have written anything, of course snow brought me out of my slump)

NOT PROOF READ! I AM LAZY

word count: 3,735

warnings: taking of virginity, dub con, breeding kink, just smut! corio being corio (bad), reader is curvy (idk actually, i think i only mention it once, but you could really skim those parts. it isn't central to the storyline tbh)

You had loved Corio long before he knew you existed. To you, he was everything you wanted, everything that you desired, everything that you longed for. To him, you were a shy girl, kind, sweet, but shy and rather unnoticeable, or you were unnoticeable. You don't know what did it, neither did he really. He didn't know if it was the harshness of district 12, or the uncertainty (and paranoia) that Lucy gray caused him that made him long for you when he arrived home, or if it were the fact that he really looked at you for the first time. You had the softness that he desired, and the look in your eyes that you would give up everything for him if he said the word. He desired that kind of relationship, one where he held the power and none of the vulnerability. With you, he had nothing to lose. There was no game you were playing, your eyes and quiet smiles held everything he needed to know.

Before he left for District 12, and before the 10th games, Corio considered love a waste of time and resources. After, he considered it a betting game that both sides were bound to lose. While he considered love a waste of time, his desires and needs were still prevalent and crowding his head with thoughts where plans and ideas should be. That's when you fell into his lap, his little rose. It didn't take him long to realize the hold that he had over you, and it took him even less time to put his charm to use.

He knew what you were, a good girl who came from good parents that raised her right. And while the whole world had long since passed the concept of purity, he knew it was something that your parents had taught to you. His little white rose. Except, he didn't want to keep you that way. He didn't have to ask if you were pure, it was something he could almost smell. Your innocence seeped out of your pores like a perfume he couldn't get enough of. Before, he never noticed you, now you were all he desired. He wanted to know all your curves and edges, wanted to fulfill your desires, he wanted to take you. Most of all, he desired to see your cheeks red, your eyes dark with desire, and his cum filling you up.

You and Corio had been seeing each other for a few months, and while you tried to pretend like it wasn't the most exciting thing to ever happen to you, it was. He was all you could think about, all you could talk about with your parents, and he was the only person you wanted to see. You were oblivious to his charm, blinded by everything that he promised to you. You were funnier and more interesting than he originally gave you credit for, he could actually relax around you and laugh, but he would never turn off the person he presented to be. He couldn't wait for much longer though, his composure was slipping, and all he could think about was being wrapped into your legs and diving into you. Your kisses were sweet and genuine, you kissed him with love, but he wanted something darker. He needed it. It was something you didn't intend to give to him though, not that you really knew what you were giving or not.

Your parents had long taught you that certain things were for married couples, after all, if you weren't pure you weren't going to be any good to them to marry off. Even to them you were a pawn, a piece that only furthered their own further interests and success. That being the reason why you were probably oblivious to the games Corio was playing with you. And you didn't know it, but tonight was the night Corio was going to win a game that you didn't know you were playing.

You were getting ready for bed, your light blue light gown skimmed mid-thigh as you sat down at your vanity brushing through your long hair. You examined your features as you did, humming a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You heard a soft knock at your window, turning your head to look for what made the sound, but you found nothing. You quickly brushed it off and went back to the task at hand, your mind getting lost in thought about a certain someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was almost like he never really left your mind at all, he was constantly grazing your thoughts. He seemed to appear everywhere that you went, in the color red, in roses, in the fallen snow on the ground. It wasn't till you heard another knock at your window, this one much harder than the last, that you actually went over to check what was making the noise.

When you looked you found your lover waiting for you, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold wind that bite at his face outside. An instant smile flew to your face when you saw him, a white rose clutched in his hand, waiting for you. You quickly opened your window to let him in, he had never done this before. You quickly tried to fight the nervousness in your stomach while you lifted the window as you almost sang his name with excitement. The cold air bit at your nipples, making them hard in an instant as it flew in from the outside. You quickly shut the window after he made it inside, a smile so big on your face that your cheeks hurt from the strain. You were so excited to see him, that you didn't notice the darkness that clouded his eyes, or his gaze that kept falling down to your almost see through dress.

"Corio!" You sang again, your arms hugging around his broad shoulders, you stepped on your tip toes to be able to reach that high. You laughed gleefully, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lifted you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as you giggled in excitement, your night gown riding up to the point it almost exposed your white panties. Corio quickly put you down after the initial excitement, softly kissing your lips after your feet touched the floor.

"My rose!" He laughed purposefully, looking down at you. Your innocence and excitement gleaming up at him through your eyes, and all he could think about was taking it from you. Unbeknownst to you. Corio's height gave him an advantage to look down at your swollen breasts in your night gown. It caused his dick to strain in his pants, he wanted to audibly groan from the pain, but he knew that tonight he was going to get what he wanted.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your smile radiating through your words. He picked up the rose that had slightly gotten crushed in your big hug.

"I was thinking of you when I saw this, and I just had to come bring it to you," he said as he brought the rose to your hand. It was beautiful, even with some of the petals fallen onto the floor. Your heart melted at the thought of him thinking of you, if only you knew the ways he thought of you.

"Thank you, Corio, it's beautiful!" You gleamed as you took the rose, "I don't have anything to put it in here though," you quickly frowned. You knew that your parents would hear you if you began clattering about through your house looking for a vase. He brought his hand to smooth the lines of your worry, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"It's okay," he soothed. Even while he was comforting you, power radiated off of him, "I can always bring you more." You quickly set the rose on your vanity where you had sat moments before. You were so comfortable with him; it didn't even register in your mind what you were wearing and how inappropriate it might be.

Corio walked over to your bed and sat down, not bothering to ask for permission. He admired you from a distance, your curves prominent in the night gown. Your nipples poking through your dress, begging for his attention, begging for his lips. He would get down on his knees and beg now (something he would never admit to), if it meant that he could suck on them. You turned around fully to face him, looking at him with so much love and admiration.

"Come here, love," He stated, not giving you an option to say no. You did as he demanded, your hips swinging in an unknowingly alluring manner. He grabbed your hands when you were stood in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped at the action, attempting to pull away from the shock of the sudden closeness but his grip stayed firm. Your legs encased his hips, his hard dick pushing into your folds. You weren't necessarily used to this type of intimacy with Corio, but he had been getting you prepared for what was to come. Heated kisses whenever you two were alone, his fingers would always brush your most sensitive parts without getting too close. He knew how to make you long for things, without you even necessarily realizing what you were longing for. You didn't even really process what was poking into you know, all you knew was that it shot tingles up your spin.

"Corio!" You gasped again when he slightly pushed his hips into yours, an uncontrollable movement on his part, but he longed for a touch that he hadn't felt in so long. His head fell into the nape of your neck, landing soft kisses from your exposed collarbone to your jaw. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips, but it also sent a familiar warmth through you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, still planting kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his face and made him face you as you planted fast kisses all over his cheeks in face in a girlish manner, giggling softly. Corio smiled at the action, letting it warm his cold heart for only a minute. The guilt of what he was going to do tinged his thoughts for a second before he thought about what he wanted, what he needed. He knew he didn't love you, but you were something he wanted, something he possessed. He liked his possessions.

You both stared at each other for a minute, your hands still cupping his cheeks and his hands held your hips firmly. The light feeling from before replaced itself with something heavier, something you couldn't quite place, and you weren't sure if you wanted to. You saw Corio's eyes fall down to your lips, your hands fell from his face and landed on his chest as the tension weighed down on yours. Corio gripped your hips tighter, squeezing him impossibly closer to you as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off sweet, his lips brushing against yours softly. This you were used to, you quickly fell into the groove of his lips. Finding your home in the way he touched you. There was something different this time though, something new. Corio quickly made the kiss faster, harder, and you tried your hardest to keep up. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. You parted your lips, trying your best to match his fast aggressive pace. His tongue edging yours. Your hands now gripped his face out of instinct and his right hand trailed to grab your breast. You gasped into the kiss; he had never done that before. He squeezed as he pushed his hips into yours, eliciting a moan from your lips as his dick pressed into your clit. You had never felt this way before.

Corio pressed himself harder into you, he could feel the wetness from your cotton underwear staining his red pressed trousers, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted to find himself was deep into you, pounding into you, he wanted to feel you quiver around him. His lips were still attached to yours, the rhythm long gone, it was all teeth and tongue. He was surprised at your ability to keep up with him, but he noticed your hesitancy. He moved back from you, separating the kiss harshly. You gasped at the lack of contact, subconsciously pushing your hips into his. Longing for that pleasure that he was giving to you.

"Y/N," Corio said sternly, causing you to look at him. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "I need you." He said, with as much desperation he could allow himself. Corio wasn't above begging you for what he wanted, although he would never admit it.

"You have me," you said softly, attempting to smile at him. You leaned back into the kiss, attempting to regain the passion, but he stopped you.

"No, I need you," he emphasized the need, pushing his hips into yours. Your face held the confusion that you were thinking. That was another thing he liked about you, if you wouldn't say it, your face would. It made it extremely easy for him to understand you.

"I-I don't get what you mean," you stuttered, your lips making a slight o shape when he pushed into you again. He moved his hands down to your vagina, eliciting another gasp from your lips.

"I need you here," he said as he moved your dress to your hips and pushed your panties to the side. His fingers grazed your soaking folds, both of you looking down to find a dark wet spot on the crotch of his trousers. "It feels like you need me to, my rose," he said softly, as his fingers dived in between your folds. He quickly found your clit, pressing into it as he watched your sweet face change in pleasure.

"I don't understand still," your voice cried out in pleasure and confusion. He could almost hear the tears in your voice, it should have made him stop, should have made him quit, but it only made him want to take it further.

He used his spare hand to grab yours, he slowly pulled it over his hard chest. You felt the bumps and ridges of his ab muscles and then felt the hardness of his dick. He forced you to squeeze him with your hands, still circling your clit in a harsh manner.

"Y/N, I need you," he emphasized by pushing into your clit, causing you to throw your head back, "here." He said using your hand to squeeze his dick. You didn't respond, you couldn't from the shock waves his fingers were sending through your body.

Corio moved his pointer finger from your clit to your entrance, your wetness coating him even more. He didn't know a girl could get so wet, but God was he grateful for that. All he could think about was you encasing him, your heat squeezing him till he forgot all about District 12 and that Lucy Gray. He could imagine a life with you, a real life, one with happiness and love, but that thought quickly disappeared from his mind.

He could see a life with you though, maybe not a real one but a life. One where you were constantly swollen with his babies. The thought of that caused him to groan as he pushed his pointer finger into you. As he felt you squeeze his finger, all he could think about was how good you were going to feel.

"Please, Y/N," Corio begged, you had never heard such a neediness in his voice before, not that you were aware enough to pick up on it. All you could think about was his finger in you and his thumb grazing your clit.

"O-okay," you agreed. Not even exactly sure what you were agreeing to, but you had a feeling it wasn't necessarily good.

Corio let out a sigh of relief at your agreeance, as much as it shamed him to admit, he would've gotten on his knees for that affirmation. He quickly threw his shirt of his head and gripped your waist. He pulled you in for another kiss, pulling you down onto him once more. Your exposed folds felt even more of him. He quickly tossed you around, laying you on your back as he stood in front of you.

He sat you up, lifting you light blue dress over your head. Your swollen breasts now bare for his viewing, but not an ounce of insecurity ran through your head. You trusted him with everything you had in you. You truly believed he would never hurt you.

"God," he groaned as he looked at you. He couldn't waste another second not being inside of you, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You admired his muscular form, which only sent more waves of warmth down you. You gasped as he pulled his dick out from his pants, it looked terrifyingly huge for a moment. He laughed at your expression but swelled up with pride as you looked at him with amazement. He quickly pulled your white cotton underwear off of your legs, looking down at your glimmering heat. He needed to be inside of you.

He crawled on top of you, kissing his way from your torso to your breast. He licked at your nipple before fully enveloping it with his mouth and sucking on it. This caused you to let out a loud moan, the tingle that you felt from this sent shockwaves everywhere. He released it, but not before biting it harshly.

He then moved up more, bringing your legs around his waist and his dick in between your folds. You let out a sigh of relief from the contact and he kissed your lips. This time, much softer, gentler than before. He began to grind himself into you, properly getting himself coated in your wetness.

He guided the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly poking himself in. He maintained control of himself in this moment, even when you moaned from the pleasurable contact. He just put the tip in and you already felt so full. Corio had to separate himself from the kiss and his head found its home in the nape of your neck. He was breathing heavily as he maintained control, slowly pushing into you. Even though, all he wanted to do was wreck you.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Stopping every few seconds to make sure you were okay, and not hurting. Before long, you were gasping at the fullness of him bottoming out into you. You two stayed like this for a long time before he lost control and started moving again.

"God damnit Y/N," he groaned, the sweat of losing control falling onto your skin. His words flew past you as the fullness was all that crowded your mind. "So fucking tight," he cursed as he drew himself out and back into you. He pivoted ever so slightly and was now making you see stars.

"Corio, corio, corio," you moaned as he now began to pound into you. Any sense of self control he had, was long gone as he heard you calling out his name with such need.

"So big," you moaned, drool coming out of your mouth as your grasped your breast with your hands. His hips stuttering inside of you as he watched you fondle yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N, fuck," he repeated, slamming into you harder. It should have hurt you, should have made you cry from the pressure, but it didn't. It drove you nearly as mad as he was. His words were lost on you, anything he said was tuned out by the feeling of being so full of him.

Your pussy let out squelching noises from how wet you were and hard he was pounding into you. Corio began to kiss to your ear and let out breathy whispers that you were too out of it to notice.

"Fucking hell, tightest pussy I've ever had," he murmured more to himself. Corio thought in his head he should have taken this from you long ago, you were handling yourself so well. He practically cursed himself out thinking of all the months he missed out on this feeling. You moans were fuel to his fire, your sweet soft voice paired with the debaucherous noises of your body colliding made him impossibly harder than he already was.

"Gonna fill you up," he moaned again, driving himself deeper into you. He was barely leaving you now, all he wanted was to be completely encased in you. "Wanna see you swell with my babies, want everyone to know that Coriolanus Snow was here," he talked in circles. One of his hands moving to press into your clit, this sent you into over drive. Your pussy began to squeeze him impossibly harder and your head was thrown back in the pleasure he was sending through you, you didn't know it but this was your very first orgasm.

Corio was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, to hold onto the feeling of driving himself inside of you like a mad man, but he quickly lost control when hearing your voice. "I love you, I love you, U love you," You repeated, pulling him closer to you with your legs. You squeezed him so tightly, he thought that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to leave your tight hole.

This only drove him further into you, and this is where he released his cum. His hips stuttered into yours for a solid minute, filling you up with everything he had been saving for you for the last few months. He came so much it began to spill out of you with him still inside of you. He looked down and saw how swollen your vagina was around him, the white semen leaking out around his dick, and for just a moment he wanted to say I love you too.

a/n: shit man. that took me two and a half hours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #corio #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games smut #hunger games smut #gale smut #peeta smut #haymitch smut #smut #tbosbas smut

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

lakan is written to be annoying he does not gives a single fuck how he's perceived unless you're luomen or maomao. he let jinshi think he forced himself on that courtesan. he told jinshi that he should think about how can a courtesan's price could be lowered and left. he never even finished the story. he was mad at jinshi for getting to maomao before he could so he went there to jinshi's office everyday to bother him and also to move the pawns (aka people) across the board to stop the assassination attempt at a certain high nobility. lakan dislikes jinshi yes but he's not a traitor ffs. when lakan and fengxian slept together it was consensual. fengxian did not tell him she was going to get pregnant and drive down her value. they hadn't slept together before that and fengxian was a courtesan who wasn't selling her body so the whole verdigris house took a hit when their number one courtesan got pregnant. it was fengxian's plan lakan didn't know. none of them confessed their feelings. he did not abandon fengxian after sleeping with her. luomen's case was why his father decided to send him away he actually thought he was gonna be back in three months. that dumbass just didn't realise why her contract deal fell off that she was pregnant that she loved him. same guy who would years later think that meimei was being nice to him only because of guilt and wouldn't realise she had feelings for him. just la clan being bad at these things it's almost like it's genetic

lakan is written like that. you're told he's a freak that maomao avoids because he wants to buy maomao. jinshi reached the conclusion regarding fengxian same as the most of us (unless somebody spoilt it for you) and maomao's hatred for him added to that conclusion. but it was all on purpose writing-wise and character-wise too. the actual story of his is told to us but not jinshi. he doesn't minds if jinshi keeps on thinking of him as a piece of shit yk. what i am saying is that lakan is meant to be read or watched that by going through a range of emotions. hating him is fine still. most characters in the story aren't his fans either. they just avoid him he's that kinda guy but the "he ruined maomao's mother's life" isn't a great take sorry. fengxian's life took a tragic turn but it's more because of circumstances than just one individual. and not like she didn't cut maomao's finger off in her frenzy. there are good enough reasons for why maomao feels how she does towards them both

#i have a post that's getting longer since feb in my drafts but i needed to get this out first #fengxian loved lakan but afaik she only loved lakan and not even their own daughter #the whole thing is very tragic but at least hate lakan for right reasons #blaming an awkward idiot for the fall of the verdigris house when he wasn't even in on her plan... #also i am all for the what ifs but maomao is allowed to think of her mother as a demon without needing therapy OR for any other reason #knh text #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #lakan

[nautilusopus]

okay FIIIIIINE i'll throw my hat into the Goncharov ring

Been a while i've done a proper movie breakdown, may as well be this one.

Rather surprisingly (but perhaps not too surprisingly given the unexpected renaissance of things like the original Dracula and Breaking Bad on this website out of seemingly nowhere and with very little prompting), I'm seeing a lot of new people suddenly interested in Martin Scorsese's seminal film classic Goncharov, originally released in 1973. Obviously a movie like that doesn't make it coming up on 50 years without generating a lot of discussion about the different ways the movie resonates and why, but coming into it in 2022 there's been so much cultural cruft that's collected around Goncharov that (similar to stories like Fight Club and Scarface) it's a little hard to parse what it's actually about with all the mythologising that's gone on around the characters.

Those movies, in one way or another, are about portraying the downfall of their protagonists -- Fight Club's after ironically creating another system of control and dehumanisation and becoming what he sought to destroy, Scarface's after being consumed by the wealth and power he's amassed. A lot of people assume it's that kind of story, because aren't most well-loved movies? However, I think this is ironically an assumption made because of the genre of film it is. All the people that aren't going, "OMG Goncharov is so cool and badass and fucks bitches," are going, "WOW I can't believe Goncharov is a cautionary tale about power corrupting," and in the process people miss that Goncharov is first and foremost about loss, in all its different forms.

I'm both kind of surprised and frustrated people miss this, given how utterly pervasive the movie is with its clock symbolism -- it's the one thing everyone remembers about it, it was in all the tie-ins. I dunno, maybe that got funneled back into the theory where they're meant to reinforce how Goncharov is just a mortal man at the end of the day, which is fine I guess, but the movie overall becomes a lot clearer when you interpret it through the lens of, "These things are gone and you can never get them back; clocks don't go backwards."

One of the most fascinating things about the movie is how every character embodies a different kind of loss. I'm gonna ease into this and start not with Goncharov but with:

Rybak, who is usually associated with loss as we typically think of it, i.e. the loss of loved ones via death. This comes up all the time, either in his trust issues (why he's being such a prick at the wedding), in the card game (he never bothers to bet much money, knowing he's bad at poker, and still loses all the same). Rybak is terrified of loss, cannot manage it, and ultimately is punished by losing what few people he had left and then being spared by Lorenzo who deems him punished enough, and is forced to survive, to grapple with what his life is now without them.

Goncharov's is actually more subtle, and it's loss of small, insignificant things as a result of the larger losses he believes he's processed. This is something that's frequently contrasted against Rybak. The pawn shop going under is actually a microcosm of this whole thing. Goncharov anticipates that this is obviously going to lead to financial issues for him, plans accordingly to deal with this, and... it works! He's saved! Except that means card games can't be hosted at his place anymore, given it's burned to the ground. Does this matter, in the grand scheme of his life? No, of course not. Poker night still gets had all the same. But it is different now, and always will be. Little things like this continue to add up, until something as insignificant as a towel -- a towel that never should have been in his room, but Sofia is no longer there to drop off his laundry and chat with him -- is ultimately the final nail in a coffin built of insignificant splinters, each one an imperceptible change underneath the much more larger, noticeable story beats of things like grief.

Otto is the big obvious one I'm not gonna linger on: loss of his youth, moments in the past that he wants to redo but can't. Most people at least seem to have gotten this one.

(This is also what the clocks get associated with a lot, which again, doesn't NOT make sense but also if it were just for this one character that, while thematically important, was honestly just a side character with limited screentime and only two scenes, would they really be all over the movie before Otto's name is even mentioned?)

Sofia's a bit abstract, and is the loss of self -- of the familiar anchors we have to who we are, what we think our core principles are, our place in society, who we want to be to our loved ones -- and by the time she dies she is rendered utterly unrecognisable to herself, and is horrified by it. She grieves herself the same way Rybak grieves his wife (even gets a direct visual callback via the way her face is lit when she's burning Lorenzo's check). You see echoes of this in Goncharov as well, but while Sofia is grieving the person she used to be, Goncharov is grieving the world around him (even though really, it's the same world it always was -- time keeps ticking on, one second per second, and neither one of them can ever un-fire that gun).

Lorenzo, tragically, gradually loses his freedom (and maybe in a parallel world would actually be the protagonist of a movie where he chokes on his own hubris like everyone seems to think Goncharov is GRUMBLE GRUMBLE). As he comes into his own more and more by his family's legacy, he is afforded fewer and fewer options about what decisions he can even make. Arguably he was doomed from the start, but the further he clings to power as a means to freedom, the more it drives him to destroying everything he ever (thought he) cared about. The tragedy of his character, and what makes him a good villain, is that he can clearly see what he is doing to himself and he absolutely hates it (his walking out early at the wedding is a tacit admission of this), but his absolute refusal to accept loss, to accept grief and pain and all the awful shit that comes with the human condition, is what causes him to toss aside every out he has because if he has enough CONTROL over his situation, surely he will never have to lose anything ever again. But, really, he already has.

I dunno. Goncharov is one of those movies that is great, and everyone seems to realise it's great, but nobody ever really puts into words why, and that's how you get Fight Club fans lmao. And it sucks because the actual discussion around the movie beyond "it's another hubris story but REALLY GOOD guys" is so much more fascinating and a much more earnest emotional truth that just never gets talked about.

#goncharov #goncharov (1973) #martin scorsese #al pacino #robert di niro #gene hackman #harvey keitel #gaslight gatekeep goncharov

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hi! I'd love to drop some thoughts on cowboy!reader.

I think they get tattoos that are symbolic of things/people that mean a lot to them. No fear of the permanence, because cowboy knows that if something means that much to you at one point in time, it'll always be a part of you anyways, tattoo or not.

So basically i can see the whole team discovering that cowboy!reader is half covered in tattoos (maybe on a really hot climate case etc) and they're like what do all those mean?! and cowboy is like well, i have one for each of y'all. then they all of course feel a need to guess which ones are representative of them. maybe only then do they realise just how much of an impact they've had on him. idk.

much love,

-🦕 anon (if that's available of course)

No warnings, also I love this idea so yeah! Also we're going to pretend that the 'plot' makes sense aha

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies

It was ridiculously hot, you honestly felt like you were melting (and this coming from you, so it was ridiculously hot). And then a police officer bumps into you, spilling his freshly made (and very hot) coffee onto you whilst you were making your way to the briefing room set up for the case.

You huffed as you walked in, trying to get the shirt as far away from you as possible without actually taking it off. "Someone spilt coffee on me," You pouted, JJ chuckled slightly.

"You're going to need to change shirts," She said, as she was closest she fished through your go-bag, grabbing a shirt and throwing it at you. You caught it, shooting her a grin as you did so.

"Shirtless warning," You warned, they all rolled their eyes at your laziness to find a secluded place to change shirts. You quickly removed your shirt as you then tried to find the opening for your other shirt.

"Since when did you have tattoos?" Morgan asks with a grin.

You turned to him, "For a while now," You shrugged.

"What do they all mean?" Spencer asked, tilting his head.

"They've all got different meanin's," You said. "Some of them are for the people I've met and have impacted me, others are just pretty,"

"Pretty?" Morgan grinned.

"Yeah, pretty."

Spencer looked at your tattoos before pointing at one. A small black bird on your chest.

"Who's that one for?"

"That one's for my baby brother Aden," You grin, "When he was a kid he used to make me sing Blackbird when he was scared,"

"Have you got any for us?" Spencer asked curiously.

"Yep," You said, "I've got one for each of y'all,"

"Seriously?" Emily's eyes widen when you nod again.

"Of course," You said, "Y'all mean a lot to me,"

"Can we guess?"

"Sure," You grin.

There was silence for a moment as you stood awkwardly whilst the team's gazes travelled your chest and back, searching for tattoos that could be linked to the team.

"Is- Is that one mine?" Spencer asked, pointing to the small chess piece on your torso, a pawn with a shadow of the queen piece.

You nod, "Yep,"

"Why the queen shadow?"

"You're a whole lot more vital to this team than you give yourself credit for," You shrug, Spencer blushes.

"This one has to be mine!" Penelope chimes, pointing at the tattoo of her favourite octopus mug. "You seriously got this tattooed onto your skin forever?!"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's on there forever,"

"It's a reminder," You said. Seeing the slightly confused look on her face, you continued, "It's a reminder that you had an impact on my life, that you meant so much to me that I wanted that remind with me, forever."

"You're so sappy," Morgan laughed, you rolled your eyes. "Wait, is this one mine?" You looked, he was pointing to the small MP3 player with a set of headphones and you nod.

"Uh-huh," You said, "You take them everywhere, it couldn't have been anything else," Morgan rolled his eyes slightly.

"Who's is this one?" Emily asked, pointing at the fountain pen.

"Hotch," You answered, "His favourite pen is the fountain pen Haley got him one Christmas,"

"Oh! Oh! This one has to be Emily's!" Garcia exclaimed, pointing to the small black cat. "It's Sergio!" You laughed as you confirmed.

"What about this one?" Reid asks, pointing to the small butterfly. "Is that one for one of us?" You nodded.

"I got that for JJ," You said with a shrug, pink dusting over your cheeks, "She told me she collected butterflies when she was young,"

"When did you get it?" JJ asked softly, staring at it. It was a Palos Verdes Blue Butterfly, a rare and beautiful butterfly.

"Bout a year ago," You said with a shrug, "That conversation made me realise-"

That I had fallen in love with you.

"That I belonged on the team," You said, giving a small crooked smile.

"Wait, is mine a plate of pasta-?" Rossi asked. You grinned at him sheepishly.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #cowboy reader #bau x cowboy reader #x cowboy reader #x male reader #male reader #male!reader #reader

[foiledbyvoile]

HEAD EMPTY, ONLY SILLY DEMENTED DEER MAN.

The last two episodes really got me over here pondering and shit. Didn't think my 2019 Alastor phase would make a comeback, but here we fuckin' are. Seriously though, what is his deal? I love that you can't quite make sense of him, but also I NEED to make sense of him.

SPOILERS AHOY.

Clearly he's somewhat emotionally invested in all this, that little (cute as fuck) scene with nifty the night before the battle showed us a sentimental softness in him, but he's also definitely cozying up to Charlie to use her powers for something big.

Something like breaking a deal he'd made, and I've got money on Lilith. That bad bitch seaside moment was too iconic, she's pulling strings and catching rays, living her best life.

But I need DETAILS, man. I wanna know what the stipulations of the contract are, I wanna know why it was made, what was gained and what was lost, if this deal gave him the power he wields in the first place. What does Alastor need to do to fulfill his end of the deal? I want the nitty gritty of it, man.

Speaking of deals, Alastor and Charlie??? I know we're probably meant to sweep it under the rug, Alastor says not to worry about it, it's not for Charlie's soul, the whole scene was just brushed aside...but what about the desperation he fucking reeked of?? He was beyond eager to make that deal.

Alastor held onto that information for months, waited for the perfect moment, when Charlie was backed into a corner and desperate, and he used that groundbreaking leverage for a favor. That could be anything! Like breaking a deal only someone with her power could, or, since he clearly likes playing the long game, it could be something far less definitive, easier for Charlie to get behind. Something like helping him make his next move.

(Then the next, and the next, and the manipulation continues--ideally, I'm sure. Narrative folly and character development will almost definitely nip that evil scheme in the bud.)

You gotta love that classic Alastor guile when he tells her it's not for her soul. What it really is is a foot in the door for him, and a show of good faith for Charlie. It's a chess move, and if Alastor is as conniving and methodical as I hope he is, it's the equivalence of moving a pawn.

But then he backs up that dubious display of altruism by introducing Charlie to Rosie and the cannibals. Would Alastor really implicate a close friend and her community for something he wasn't truly invested in? That's a genuine question at this point. It's pretty much confirmed in the song that Alastor is choosing to help Charlie, that he sees the potential in her, but again, for his own benefit.

Which brings us to the radio tower, post fight. The vibes I picked up were immaculate. He's incredulous, desperate, shaken and very clearly trapped in circumstances that drive him absolutely insane.

Alastor's all about control. I think back on his spiel to Charlie about maintaining that control with a smile, but even now, when Alastor is cracking under the realization that he doesn't have that, he continues to smile.

I'm really under the impression that Alastor literally cannot stop smiling. (I'm not counting the single-frame-debacle.) It's either that, or he's forcing himself to smile, desperately vying for some semblance of control in a moment where he well and truly has none.

Then there's the line, "Great Alastor Altruist died for his friends". It feels sardonic. Bitter, like he regrets putting himself in that position, but was it really a choice to begin with? Because he let himself get too involved, too comfortable, and realized that that sentimentality he'd developed has become a weakness?

I think he really was forced to protect Charlie and the hotel (it would explain the seven year coincidence, and Alastor appearing at Charlie's doorstep so serendipitously). This is almost cemented by the following line, "I'm hungry for freedom like never before, the constraints of my deal, surely you have a back door."

He almost died (again), for the sake of Charlie and her hotel. That's a helluva fucking thing for a being who's toppled overlords and held power like he has. No amount of entertainment is worth his own life, there's just no way he willingly pits himself against Adam for anyone's sake.

Assuming that the source of his power is also the source of his subjugation, and considering how Alastor openly strives for control--yeah, he's having a bit of a moment™.  

I do hope that there's some genuine conflict in him in regards to his relationship with Charlie and the gang. That everything he's doing isn't inherently selfish anymore, but he veils that 'weakness' under his perpetual guise of deviant mirth. Bonus points if he's tormented by the good Charlie brings out in him. He deserves the angst, the fuzzy-fucker (/affectionate).

Couple of side notes here:

Thoughts on the way Alastor's mouth is sewn up when he strikes the deal with Charlie? Was he made to smile all the time, is it just a design choice? Personally, I'm hoping there's some angsty lore there, like maybe it's part of his contract as some twisted joke, idk.

I have a love/hate relationship with the Alastor vs Adam smackdown extravaganza. Yes, it was rad as fuck. Yes, of course Alastor was going to lose. But the way it was handled felt like a bit of a disservice, Alastor's reaction felt ooc. But then again that could just be me projecting my perspective of Alastor unto the character.

ALSO, having a character who is well known for not swearing dropping some casual, outta pocket f-bombs was a bit trite. it's supposed to feel like a reward, y'know?

ANWAYS. Yeah. Good shit. I'm losing my goddamn mind.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel episode 7 #hazbin hotel episode 8 #don't mind me just casually spiraling into obsession #alastor analysis #i just think he's neat

[blanc-u]

I just want to say that this was cinema and inform Tumblr that Cellbit did the same speach that Ms. Veríssimo, one of the most important characters of Ordem paranormal and basically the one who founded the Order in the RPG, did when he abandoned the Order. qCellbit has been paraphrasing this character for a while, principally in the Regret arc (like with the "eyes always open" bit), and I think this is a huge moment not only for the cubito but also for the island.

This was, like qCellbit has been indicating for a while, the "wrap up" of Regret's arc. We wouldn't play anymore, we would show the federation what Regret really meant and Cucurucho would fall, but we didn't account for the fact that the whole reason we were fighting, the eggs, are gone, and that qCellbit literally hadn't any strength left in him to fight. He was in a dead end and then he found out that every shit thing that happened in his past wasn't inevitable, that he had lost a whole family that he can't even remember and was apparently trying to escape the Island he grew up on. The one that if he hadn't been taken out of in first place he wouldn't had to do the horrible things he did. The fucked up island that, as he said, gave him everything good in his life.

It's a lot and qCellbit was acting out of desperation. He put his everything in the hope that Project A0 would be the thing that would finally tip the balance, just for it to be useless. Not even the satisfaction of making cucurucho fail was enough, because he still wasn't any closer to finding his son or Forever. And, just like that, he hadn't any strength left in him to fight and he gave up. Fighting the federation didn't do him any good in the end, he wasn't any closer of finding out how to leave the island than he was on day one and now he also lost Richarlyson.

Now here's what I think it's going to happen: qCellbit is going to abandon the Order. The organization he poured his soul into, the only thing tying all the Islanders together, will be left behind. He doesn't care about leaving anymore, he just wants to live in peace with his family, and if the federation can help finding them so be it. He will be a pawn if that's what it takes to have his whole family together in peace. He won't struggle, won't pry. But I also know that while he is done, others are angrier than ever. I think that qPhilza and qBadboyhalo will, in a way, take up the mantle and keep up the work in the order. They ARE the other heads of the revolution, named by qCellbit himself, and they aren't ready to give up, they are just starting, and I can't way to see what they will do.

#qsmp #qcellbit #qsmp theory #q philza #q badboyhalo

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 13

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Violence. Reader stabs herself. Murder.

Author’s Note: They’re gonna be happy. I swear. Just. Just be patient. Inspo for her gown! Might I recommend listening to Dress by Taylor Swift when she reveals her gown? Gif from @fictional-thoughts

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Engagement

Something about arriving in Senex, then leaving, then arriving again without issue gave Din an overwhelming feeling of paranoia. It shouldn’t have been so easy –the Crest was able to go undetected just fine, but there was no way that Calisto and her men weren’t keeping an eye on the skies. More importantly, he shouldn’t have been able to sneak back into her bedroom just as easily as he had before either, but there he was, setting Grogu up on her bed.

There was commotion downstairs –music, voices echoing through the empty halls and vents. He must have gotten there just in time for the party to have started. Which meant he didn’t have much time to get her and get her out of there. Din hoped that she had gotten the tracker out, but the thought of her cutting it out of herself brought on an anger that he needed to control if this was going to work.

Grogu babbled, reaching up to him as Din checked over his armor.

“It’s going to be okay, kid,” he promised, resting a hand on the child’s head gently. “Isowen will be here to keep you safe, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Din and Grogu exchanged looks as the bedroom door creaked open. Drawing his blaster, Din pointed it at the intruder, only for Isowen to stop in her tracks with her hands in the air. Her eyes were wide, but Din lowered his weapon and she shut the door with her foot. 

“The princess is downstairs with her mother,” Isowen explained, walking into the bedroom entirely, though she stopped at the end of the bed. Grogu stared up at her with wide eyes. “This must be the little one she’s spoken of.”

Din nodded, holstering his gun. “He’ll be safe with you, then?”

“I will protect him with my life,” Isowen promised, lifting Grogu into her arms. “Just as I have protected his mother.” The two exchanged looks, with Isowen meeting Din’s gaze carefully. “Treat her well, Mandalorian. Or I will be who you answer to.”

Din wanted to counter her threat and ask where she was when Calisto was pawning her child off –but he decided against it. There was only so much Isowen could have done for her, and he wasn’t going to insult the one person that his princess seemed to have left in the home that cared about her. 

She had him now too.

“The party has begun,” Isowen explained, resting Grogu on her hip. “The announcement of the engagement will not be until the end.”

“Did she get the tracker out?” 

The lady in waiting shook her head, looking away for a moment. “She asked me –I couldn’t bring myself to cut her open like that again, though. I am sorry, Mandalorian.”

He huffed through his modulator, but didn’t comment. Instead, he simply nodded and exited the room. A kink in the plan but nothing he couldn’t figure out in the moment.

*****

Downstairs, at the party, she was standing alone in the back. The hall was set up in a way that obscured her from view, but allowed for an excellent vantage point to scan the room. Usually, she and her father sat there to people watch. Now, it worked well for surveillance.

Her armor was obscured enough by the gossamer of her cape. Besides, her mother didn’t even bother to ask her about the addition. Just as Isowen promised, the sleeves of her dress were removed and allowed for a full view of the scar that took up most of her arm now. She would let the whole galaxy know what her mother did if given the chance. The Senate should know who was taking her father’s place.

“If I didn’t know any better,” a soft voice teased. From around the corner came Leia Organa with a glass in her hand. Leia gave her a small, playful smile. “I’d think you weren’t the purpose of the party.”

“What gave it away?” She asked, holding her hands behind her back now.

“Honestly, the entire thing,” Leia admitted, looking out over the party now. “Though, Credence and your mother being the actual center of attention really confirms it.”

She nodded once, scanning over the party. Her eyes caught a crack in the servant’s doorway, and a quick flash of light caught silver. A smile spread over her lips, knowing well what that meant.

Who that meant.

“Leia, I need your help,” she finally concluded, looking to the other princess at her side.

“Does it involve getting you out of this marriage? Because if it does, absolutely.”

She looked a bit surprised, unsure if Leia was being serious. But then she nodded once. “It does. But it also involves saving my…a child from Moff Gideon.”

Leia’s brow furrowed, though she kept her eyes on the party. She was certain the other princess caught her slip up, but if she did, Leia said nothing. “Gideon died, I thought?”

“Apparently not.”

“Why is he interested in a child?”

She opened her mouth to explain then stopped, realizing she wasn’t entirely sure of the answer. Din never really explained why Gideon was so interested in Grogu; just that he had been chasing after them for years now. It didn’t really matter, if she was honest with herself. Whatever Grogu had that Gideon wanted –she wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her child. 

“I…don’t know, truthfully,” she finally admitted, looking away from the crack in the door and to Leia. “I just know that I have to protect him.”

Leia glanced over at her then nodded once. “You have an escape plan?”

“I have a Mandalorian and a ship.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” 

The two finally looked at each other properly, as Leia’s husband joined them. Han Solo held a glass in his hand, looking annoyed by the entire ordeal. 

“When can we leave?” He asked, finishing off his drink. “This entire thing is a joke.”

“Han,” Leia warned, looking up at him. “This is the Princess of Senex.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

She waved him off, shaking her head. “It is a joke, you’re right.”

“And we’re going to help get her out of here,” Leia explained, taking his arm. “With the help of a Mandalorian, apparently.”

“Weren’t you taken by a Mandalorian?” Han asked, looking down at her with a frown. 

She shook her head, looking back out as a new stormtrooper suddenly joined the party as a guard. He nodded at her and she smiled knowingly. 

“No, I wasn’t.”

*****

Din slipped into the party with ease, having gotten rid of another trooper and taken their armor. While he wasn’t entirely sure where in the hall she would be, he would find her. He surveyed the room, searching for any sign of her presence. He could feel the weight of his mission pressing down on him, but he tried to push it aside and focus on the task at hand. 

As he weaved his way through the crowd, he kept his eyes and ears open, listening for anything that might lead him to her. Finally, he caught an offset of the room –a corner that was sheltered away. If she wasn’t in the main room, that’s exactly where she’d be. He quickened his pace and disappeared into the throngs of partygoers, slipping around the corner without a word.

A young woman stood next to his princess, whispering to her. She glanced at him, frowning deeply. “I think we should take this elsewhere.”

“It’s fine,” she promised, nodding to Din behind the enemy mask. One of his hands found the small of her back without hesitation. “He’s mine.”

The man beside the other woman gave her a wary look before he realized what she meant, then he turned to Din. “I thought Mandos couldn’t take off their helmets?”

“Doesn’t matter,” was all he said. 

He put his hands up in defense, giving a feigned look of offense. “Why do I feel like this is gonna break into a firefight?”

“Because it will,” Din offered as an explanation, and he gripped his blaster tight in his hands. “Who are these people?”

“Leia,” the woman offered, motioning to the man beside her. “This is Han.”

“And no, it won’t,” she countered, giving him a wary look. “Not if I can get this tracker out of my arm –,”

“The what out of where?” Leia demanded, grabbing her hand to pull her arm from beneath her cape. Disgust painted the older princess’s features as she examined her arm. “Stars above, this is –,”

“How are you gonna get it out?” The other man interrupted, looking over the healed scar. “Without, y’know, cutting it back out?”

“That was the plan,” she admitted, reaching for the dagger beneath her skirts. She turned to Din, looking up at him now. “I need you to do it.”

Din stared at the dagger, the feeling of anxiety overwhelming him. It wouldn’t be his first time cutting something out of someone, but something about doing it to her created a rock in his stomach. 

“I…I don’t think I can,” he admitted, voice quiet behind the trooper’s mask. 

Her brows knitted together, looking up at him with a small frown. She glanced at the other two, then pulled him to the side. “Din, I…you have to do it. I can’t; you’re the only person I trust to do it –,”

“I can’t, cyare,” he whispered back, shaking his head. “I can’t hurt you like that. I…I don’t think I can.”

“Din, if I do it, then there’s a higher chance I cut something fatal.”

“No, you won’t —,”

“Din —,”

“If you two are done,” Leia interrupted, looking between the two now. She plucked the dagger from her hands, glancing at the signet engraved on it, then back at his princess. “I’ll do it.”

“Absolutely not,” Din snapped, taking the weapon from her. Between a stranger offering to slice open his wife and that same stranger taking her weapon, Din was not having it. 

“Hey, we have trouble,” Han announced, peering around the corner. “If we’re gonna make our getaway, now is the time.”

Din pushed him out of the way, taking a breath as Calisto and Credence moved to the center of the party. Gideon was standing to the side, scanning the room for any sign of trouble. Din was about to give him trouble, but she grabbed his arm.

“Leia and Han are going to join the party,” she explained, looking at them as they nodded and made their exit. She gripped his arm hard over the armor. “It’s going to be okay, Din. Get your armor –you’re going to need it.”

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. There was a sudden increase of guards in the room, and Din knew well it meant Calisto was starting to catch on that she was missing from the party. Turning back to her, he scanned her features for any hesitation –any fear. But she stood tall before him.

“Do not make a single move without me in this room,” he warned, pointing at her with warning. He knew she would try to fight this on her own; he couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have that. “We fight this together, do you understand me?”

She nodded once. “I do.”

*****

Once Din had disappeared into the shadows of her home, she made her way back into the fray of party goers. Most didn’t even notice she had disappeared from the ordeal; some asked her questions but she ignored them as she pushed her way to the front.

On the side stood Leia and Han, who were watching Moff Gideon with careful expressions. She nodded once to them as she stood at the edge of the crowd. Her mother raised a brow at her, as if suddenly realizing her daughter was even present, then motioned her forward to join them. That same forced smile spread over Calisto’s face, pretending that she was happy to see her daughter, as she stood beside her mother.

“Thank you all for coming,” Calisto announced, motioning to the crowd. “It is truly a marvelous day to be together in this room.” 

The crow clapped, cheering brightly as if they had any idea what was happening. She wanted to roll her eyes; scold them for the part they were playing in such a farce. But she played her part, standing there silently as she scanned the crowd once more.

“Today, our family becomes one with the Credence’s,” Calisto continued, motioning to Silas who stepped forward next to her. “As he has asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

As if the crowd was excited to hear that their young princess was suddenly engaged to an old man, they broke out in cheers and congratulations again. From her place in the room, she could see everything. The cheering crowds, the questioning faces. Not everyone was excited; some of them saw through it all. Those were the faces she counted; the ones that she knew would be her saviors if the plan went south.

“Silas, if you would present the ring,” Calisto commanded, voice laced in an insincere sweetness that made her want to choke. 

Silas stepped towards her, holding out a rather simple ring; one that had no thought put into it. Why would he need to? She had to say yes; it didn’t matter if she liked him or the ring or anything about it. It was when he reached for her hand, though, that she glanced around the room once last time. The crowd was split; some were too drunk to realize how ridiculous this was. Some were  realizing that something was wrong.

And when Silas took her hand roughly, she wanted to yank it back. His hands were cold, as if he had been dead for years already. They weren’t welcoming, they weren’t caring. They were boney and calloused and felt like they weren’t even real.

As he moved to slip the ring onto her finger, though, she realized that she couldn’t do this. Even if it was all a facade, she couldn’t let this awful man put a ring on her finger and claim her as his. Not when she held the dagger against her skin. Her mind, briefly, thought back to the night she shared with Din when he asked her to marry him. If Credence so much as brushes against you, I want you to put this dagger into his jugular, Din had said. In the moment, it had been alarming to consider –but now, with her hand in the grasp of Silas Credence –

Her dagger found its place in the old man’s throat. 

She hadn’t even realized she had pulled it out; there was no weight shift in her hand. No thought outside of not letting the bastard put a ring on her finger, allowing him to claim what was only Din’s –the only thought she had was not to let them win.

And so she stabbed him, and every sound came back to the room as members of the crowd started to scream. Calisto was next, shouting at her to stop. Silas had fallen to the floor, clutching his throat where the blood seemingly would not stop pouring out. And there she stood, bloody dagger in hand, staring down at the body as if she hadn’t just killed a man.

Then, she slowly turned to her mother, who was now pointing a blaster at her head. Leia and Han pointed their own at Calisto as Din parted the crowds with their child in tow. Every stormtrooper in the room held their weapons at the attack, pointing at her specifically but she did not think anything of it. With her eyes trained on Calisto, she reached up, unpinning the cape and allowing it to drop to the floor. Her gown, while regal and formal still, was overlaid in an armor piece that covered her bodice to her throat and shoulders. Chainmail chased itself from the top of her chest piece to her throat and across her arms. But her arms were exposed, sheer fabric no more.

Her hands raised in the air as she turned to the crowd in front of her. Credence’s blood covered her hands, but her scar –with the tracking beckon still dully blinking through her skin –was exposed to the room. “This is what your queen has done to your princess,” she announced. Her voice shook, but she stood tall. “She has made me a prisoner in my own home. She killed your Senator for her own gain, and promised me off to someone to maintain that power.”

Gasps and cries echoed through the room as she pointed the dagger at her mother now. Calisto stepped to the side but she followed the movement, eyes narrowed. Din stepped forward next, with Han and Leia close on his heels. 

“I was not taken,” she continued, though her eyes never left Calisto’s movements. “I ran from the life my mother is trying to force me to have. And I will continue to run if that is what it takes.”

“There is nowhere in this galaxy you can go that I won’t find you,” Calisto sneered, motioning to the tracking device on her wrist, poised now to electrocute her. “I know all, child. I always have.”

She glanced at her arm, waiting for the shock but it never came. “You’re right, mother. You can find me, can’t you?” For a moment, she hesitated, then she turned the dagger on herself –prying the device out of her arm. The pain was like nothing she had experienced before; even when having it placed, it did not hurt as bad as her digging the blade of her knife into her arm and using it to force the chip onto the floor.

Blood dripped from her fingertips as she stepped on the device, destroying it with the heel of her shoe. Calisto was left standing speechless, shocked that her daughter actually ripped herself open. There were many things that Calisto of Senex did not know about her child –things that even she did not know until recently. 

“I am the princess of Senex,” she announced, pointing the dagger at her mother once more. “And I will not be held prisoner by you any longer.”

“Then you will be held as mine,” Gideon announced suddenly, aiming his blaster at her. Blaster fire overwhelmed the room, and suddenly she was on the floor, shielded by beskar and strong arms.

Din was right about the firefight after all.

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #mando x reader

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 8.5k

TW: Guns, S2 E14/15 ie Revelations (lmao sorry gang), guns, police (acab), torture, character death, mentions of death, dead bodies, rabid dogs, loooots of bible talk, mentions of kissing, brief reminiscing of potentially more sticks to canon pretty closely meaning if you have issues with the Episode Revelations, then this might not be for you, neediness, crying, lack of crying, internalized emotions, mentions of cheating, mentions of past relationship trauma

A/N: So I'm pretty sure this reads as gn! Reid does quote a proverb that references women, but that's because the bible wasn't big on inclusivity when it came to shaming people who enjoyed sex...anywho! I love any and all feedback! Enjoy!

You, Emily, Hotch, Derek, Gideon and the Sheriff sat around the computer, staring at a woman tied up in a barn, in her slip dress, mouth duct taped over. A figure, who had hidden his face, was reading out a passage of the bible. Your eyes were glued to the screen. 

A portion of Jezebel shall dogs eat the flesh of.

“No. no.” You turned around, not wanting to watch what was happening on the screen, just hearing it was almost too much. 

“Jezebel’s Death.” muttered Gideon, his voice filled with solemnity. 

“My god.” Emily turned away from the screen, copying your actions. 

Finally, Hotch told Emily to turn it off, but not before the Sheriff jumped up. “Wait.” 

You all looked at him, confusion written all over everyone’s faces. 

“You hadn’t seen enough.” Derek quipped. 

“Those dogs. Those three dogs attacked someone a couple of months ago. I would’ve had them impounded but the victim knew the owner.” The sheriff was sure about it, more sure about this than anything he had seen in his life. “A neighbor, he didn’t want to press charges.” 

Gideon stared at him. “You sure?”

“As god as my witness.”  The sheriff scrambled for his notebook, flipping to find something. “Three mangy mixes, I knew those dogs looked sick. I called in animal control, but I don’t know if they ever followed up on it.” 

“Here it is.” He looked up from the page.

“You have the owner’s name?” Hotch leaned over glancing into the notebook. 

“Hankel.”

Your eyes went wide. “Hankel?”

“Tobias Hankel.” 

“That’s where Reid and JJ are.” You looked over at Hotch, who watched several waves of emotion fly over your face, trying to control all of them. He nodded and looked at everyone. “Alright let’s go.”

The sheriff yelled out for people to grab their gear while you asked Hotch for a second outside. He nodded and followed you outside to the parking lot. It was cold out, only because of the night breeze, allowing yourself to enjoy the lack of sun and heat. 

Hotch was the only person who actually knew about you and Spencer’s relationship, not because you didn’t trust the team, but because the less people that knew about it, the better. You had watched agents lose their loved ones over and over, being used as pawns against one another, and you were terrified of that happening. The team knew you two really liked each other, and you would hope that it showed since you had been dating for almost a year. 

You were the team's newest addition, right after Elle, younger than Spencer by a year, but still boasting your own PhD. The two of you clicked right away. And to a room of profilers, it was obvious that you two would work perfectly together, and you did. 

So when you started dating a couple months later, you had kept it a secret, just to test things out, not make it public before you were sure. But then the whole “Fisher King” incident happened, and then Elle disappeared, which meant Emily had just joined, causing there to be really no time to just drop another bombshell on a team.

You didn’t mind though. It meant that despite the teasing, you got reassurance that Spencer absolutely had a crush on you, regardless of relationship status. Morgan teasing him over glancing at you one to many times had definitely boosted your ego a bit, but a little confidence never hurt anyone.

You looked up at Hotch, really trying not to freak out, counting your inhales and exhales, timing them so your heart wouldn’t give out. “Hotch if they aren’t…” 

“I know.”

“I’m not asking you to promise me that everything is okay and he’s going to be fine, because we honestly have no reason to believe anything is wrong in the first place, but I–I just need to know that whatever might go down, I’ll have your support because…” 

He nodded and put a hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze. “I know. I’m going to give you another minute out here, but then we need to go.” He went back inside, letting you close your eyes, breathing in the air, letting the coolness still your chest. 

It was hard to only have Hotch know at times like these, or at least confirm his suspicions. You had been alone for about thirty seconds when Derek came out to greet you, bringing you your vest. 

“Stressed out there Girl Genius?” 

You nodded and accepted the vest, sliding it on, remaining silent. 

“Hey.” You looked up at Derek who held his arms out, and you gratefully accepted the invitation. “Everything’s going to be okay. Maybe he’ll finally admit that he loves you if something bad happens.” 

His joke landed but not in the way Derek thought. You scoffed. Derek sighed and pulled away a bit. “He really does like you Y/N, you just have to be patient with him.” You almost felt bad for not telling Derek the scoff was because you already had told one another, quite recently actually. 

“Maybe Derek. Maybe. But for now, I want to make sure they’re both okay, and I’d rather it be sooner than later.” 

The police pulled up to the Tobias household, sirens wailing, lights flashing around. You jumped out the car, gun in your holster, following Derek and Emily. 

The sheriff stopped Morgan and told him about the barn in the back, and the three of you moved to the back of the house. You took out your gun and slowly followed behind Morgan and Prentiss, watching the door of the barn swing back and forth slightly in the wind. 

Derek clicked on the flashlight, and you two did the same, following behind him as he took the lead into the barm. You shined a light through the empty stalls, rocking back and forth between each side, looking for any sign of  either Spencer or JJ.

Emily’s light landed on one of the dogs, dead—shot. You swung your light the opposite way, finding another dog. Just then Derek took a step back, having found the mattress in which the remains of that poor woman was, or at least all of her blood soaked through the entire fabric of the mattress. You immediately turned away, not being able to look at it. You had a very strong stomach, unusually strong since you worked with the FBI and had seen plenty of inhumane things no human should be capable of, but something about this particular scene was unbearable to look at. 

“Damn.” Derek whispered before you all whipped around when you heard someone scream “F.BI.”.

JJ. Her hair was matted, eyes wide, chest heaving. She was shaking, eyes running between the people standing in front of her. 

“JJ!” Derek yelled her name as everyone had swiveled around to her, all twisting your aim to JJ. . 

“Don't. Move.” 

“JJ it’s us–Morgan. Prentiss. Y/L/N. Don’t Shoot, it’s okay” He slowly moved towards her, trying to calm her down, get her to put down her weapon. “Don’t shoot. It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

She lowered her gun, eyes quickly moving from each of you, you could watch as her mind tried to calm down, letting the adrenaline dissipate. You approached her, getting close, trying not to startle her. 

“It-Tobias Hankel is the unsub.” She let out, eyes still quickly scanning around her, almost searching for something. 

“We know.” Emily exhaled, as she placed a hand gently on JJ’s arm. The sheriff leaned over and informed Derek that they were going to call an ambulance for JJ. 

“W-W-We just thought he was a witness…” JJ holstered her gun before watching as Morgan looked around as the dead dogs surrounded all four of you.  

“I had to kill them.” Her eyes had glossed over. 

“JJ, where’s Reid?” Derek spoke, looking at her expectantly, but eyes filled with worry. 

“They just completely tore her apart. There’s nothing even left–” 

“JJ. Look at me.” You grabbed her hand, causing her to look up at you. “Look at me. Where’s Reid.” 

“We–We split up, he told me he was going to go around back.” JJ started to panic again, realizing he wasn’t with you. You also started to tremble, pulling your hand away slightly, exiting the barn before you could hear another word, gun drawn. 

You could hear as Morgan followed you, almost running to the back of the barn. You stopped once you turned the corner, slowly creeping forward, eyes scanning across the corn, but also listening in for potentially any sound coming from behind the barn. You saw some trampled stalks, and turned to look at Derek. 

“He followed him into the field Derek.” 

Derek saw your thought process, and the conclusion you reached as you reached it, which was a matter of seconds. As you went to dash into the field, following the very faint trail, Derek grabbed your arm and stood his ground, meaning you fought against him, and he struggled a bit, but ultimately won. “If you think for one second I am about to let you go into that field, you’re crazy.”

“Dere–”

“That’s clearly a sign that someone got dragged. He’s not in there.” 

You huffed, biting your lip. You were trying so hard not to break in front of Derek, but every second you thought about what Tobias Hankel had been doing to people, meshed with every other second you thought about that happening to Reid, it was a miracle you could still even listen to Derek. 

“Go inside with Hotch.” 

You nodded slightly, holstering your gun, and running your hands down your face. “You’re not going to leave me alone until you watch me walk away from the cornfield.” You grumbled out, looking up at him. 

“Yeah.” He sighed and pulled you into a quick hug. “Look. I don’t know what has actually occurred between you and Boy Genius, but you charging off into a field we know he probably isn’t in, won’t help us find him. I’m going to talk to Prentiss and JJ.” 

You nodded and pulled away, running your hands through your hair, quickly walking towards the house as Derek moved towards the ambulance, not fully taking his eyes off of you. He was curious as to what the team didn’t know about you two, but pushed it aside since clearly pestering you about it wasn’t going to help any of you find Reid. 

The next morning, You had not slept, and were only slightly avoiding JJ, basically walking laps around the outside of the house, trying to let your brain get some oxygen and calm down. Or, you would be standing around a table with the team, sitting in front of the computers, and your leg would bounce, you would tap your hands against your arm, anything to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Obviously the team all picked up on it. It’s not even like they were microexpressions, you were just visibly anxious.  All your brain could think about were flashes of Spencer, and whether or not he was still alive, completely unaware of his whereabouts since the lead from last night turned out to be a dead end. Hankel was smart, which made you nervous. 

You were currently walking around the living room, wearing a circle into the rug, which was barely holding it together, reading Tobais’s diaries, trying to find anything. You heard JJ welcome in Garcia, and you paused to look up at Garcia with a brief smile on your face before continuing. Once they got her set up, Hotch tilted his head, requesting you come a bit closer so you all could talk. 

“So, I’m guessing nothing new since I left.” He started. 

“Not but,” Emily started. “The good thing is this guy documented everything second of his life. The bad news is we’re still unpiling.”

“From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years.” JJ sighed and stared down at all of the notebooks and papers strewn across the table. 

“He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail.” Emily looked up at Hotch, but Gideon interrupted. 

“No no no, it’s more than that. Sheriff’s office, 911 calls. Every time he engages the police and gets away with it, he reassures himself. God’s on his side not ours.” 

You just walked into the kitchen and lightly dropped the notebook you had been reading onto the table, brushing past Hotch. “I need some air.” You mumbled to him, shoving the rickety screen door open and quickly hustling down the steps. 

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to breathe, trying to fight the urge to burst into tears and let yourself just lay on the ground. The only reason you hadn’t done so yet was because the urge to find Spencer was so much stronger. 

After a moment, you heard the screen door open and someone come down the steps. “Emily I’m fi–”

“Y/N,” 

You looked up and made eye contact with JJ. Her hair was flatter, less knots, but you could still see she had been shaken up. It didn’t matter. You were trying, desperately trying to not blame JJ for Reid’s disappearance, and you knew she was struggling with it too, but the fact that they weren’t together meant that he got dragged off somewhere, technically on her watch. 

“JJ now’s no–”

“Please let me—”

“JJ.” You cut her off, arms crossed over your chest. You were only truly able to make eye contact with her for a couple seconds before you had to avert your eyes upwards. “Seriously. I’m fine. Go back inside.” 

Your voice was curt, and running along the line of unkindness, but you were restraining yourself, trying to give your coworker, your friend, someone who had become your family, an out in this moment, but she just wouldn’t take it. 

“You won't even look at me!” That got your attention back to her. “You haven’t spoken to me since the barn, and you’re avoiding me. I-I know what we did wasn’t…” 

You huffed, now only staring at her, challenging her. “I’m listening now, JJ. That’s what you wanted right.” 

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know you blame me. I blame myself. But I can’t stand you being so distant and I–”

“Look. JJ.” You cut her off again. “I am doing everything in my power not to scream at the top of my lungs how stupid it was, for the both of you to split up.” Your voice was low, and steady—it was unnerving to hear since you had always spoken with such character, such lightness. “But right now, I can’t yell at Spencer. And I really do not want to yell at you. I think it is one of the stupidest decisions either of you could have made. But blaming you for a decision you both made, doesn’t help us find him any sooner. So please. Just leave me alone right now.”

You brushed past her, not making any actual contact with her, since the next person who touched you might actually be the reason you start sobbing. JJ was absolutely shocked, frozen in the yard, trying not to cry herself. You didn’t want JJ to cry, you really didn’t, but she was pushing on something that is usually completely surrounded by walls and locks and gates. 

You blinked away your tears and walked back into the house, towards the kitchen. Hotch and EMily looked up at you, both noticing JJ wasn’t next to you, and your face somehow managed to seem more frustrated and anxious than before. 

Spencer had bought you a necklace for your one year anniversary. It was a very simple chain, with a small pendant on the front. Inside it was a pressed flower, a small, pressed, red salvia in the center of the clear pendant. You loved flowers, it was very obvious from the way that you always had a small vase of a few fresh flowers in the corner of your desk, or you had a signature pair of floral converse you always wore when you went out. It took Spencer all of three seconds to figure out that you loved flowers, and all of one question later to find out if you knew, and liked, Victorian Flower language; of course you did. When you two had started secretly seeing one another, you had been updating the flowers weekly. It was a part of your regular schedule, so no one questioned it. But suddenly you were becoming deliberate in your mini bouquets, hints of longing (pink camellias), with pops of devotion (heliotrope), or secret adoration (gardenias) sprinkled with I think of you (blue salvia), eventually turning to bouquets of ever-lasting love (baby’s breath) and sunshine in his smile (yellow tulips). Every time you would update the weekly bouquet, the team would comment on how the new bouquet looked so beautiful, the colors brightening up the place. But when Spencer walked through the door, you loved watching his eyes immediately dart for the flowers, decoding the message for only him. The red salvia  on your chest was proudly proclaiming forever mine, for Spencer, and no one was the wiser.  

When you wore it happily the day after your anniversary, exchanging the previous bouquet for a new one filled with yellow lilies, Spencer cou;d’ve known right then and there that you were over the moon, if you hadn’t already told him, and shown him, the night before. When Derek watched you fiddle with the necklace all day, he had made a joke that clearly you have someone in your life and “Pretty Boy needs to step up his game”, he had misread your slight smirk as a tease on Spencer, and not on himself. It was not a month later that you were fiddling with it in Tobias Hankel’s kitchen, your biggest tell of all, that you were nervous about something. But to most of the profilers in the room, you were nervous and fiddling with your necklace, to Hotch, it was a clear sign that he needed to keep you at a slight distance to make sure your head stays clear. If any of them had been thinking clearly, they might have made the connection from the necklace to Reid, but no one really was. 

JJ followed a minute later, and quietly went back to her seat. It was clear she had been crying, or trying not to, but so were you, so it honestly didn’t make you feel as bad as it probably should have. 

“Hey guys.” Emily’s voice cut through your thoughts. “I have got a list of Narcotics Anonymous meetings. Someone’s name and number is written on it, but it looks to be about twelve years old.” 

“Try it. There are no bad leads.” Gideon answered. 

You sighed, but watched curiously as Gideon stared at the wallpaper. He peeled off a section of it, revealing what seemed to be the same phrase over and over and over again. 

“Honora Partum Tuum.” He read aloud. 

“Honor thy father.” You finally spoke up. For much of the team, it was the first time they had heard your voice in hours. 

Gideon looked over at you, realizing in his eyes, nodding. 

“Hey guys. I think I got something.” You heard Derek yell, which meant all of you rushed out of the house, running over towards Derek. He had his gun out, pushing hay off of doors to what seemed like a storm cellar. 

Derek pulled open one of the doors, shining his light into the darkness. “Tobias Hankel, F.B.I!” Hotch gave him the go ahead to slowly move down the stairs, then allowing Emily to follow. Hotch then gave you a small look, giving you the impression that you would not be allowed down into that cellar until it was cleared. You stood back slightly, not having the energy to have a bout in front of the others, still holding your gun, and scanning the surrounding area, keeping an eye particularly on the barn and the fields behind it. 

You heard Derek yell out “Tobias Hankel” a couple of times, making your pulse beat faster–maybe they had found him, maybe he was okay. There was no other sound than Derek though. Maybe he was dead. Maybe someone else had spencer. Maybe—Derek came out of the storm cellar, covering his mouth. 

You looked at him expectantly and shook his head. “Tobias’s father…on ice.” 

You exhaled, a wave of emotions crashing through your veins that only left you more stressed than before. 

Hotch came out of the cellar next, and motioned for you to follow him. You knew this conversation was coming, and the fact that it hadn't happened already surprised you. 

Once the two of you were out of earshot, Hotch looked at you, not as a friend, not as someone who helped you through some dark moments in your life, but as your boss. “Can you continue, or do you need to sit the rest of this case out.” 

His tone wasn’t harsh, quite the opposite. He watched as someone he cared for was slowly crumbling, closing off her walls to the outside, meaning you were more in your own head, than truly present. 

You nodded, sighing. “If I’m not here, then I might go out there on my own. I’m not telling you that you’re babysitting me.” Hotch tried to cut you off, but you barrelled through. “But I need to be here, because if a breakthrough happens, if any of us find a location, I need to be in that car Hotch. If we find Hankel, I have a full understanding that however I react is the fate of my job. I am well aware of that. And I love this team with basically everything I have, so I need you to trust me, the way I am trusting all of you to find him.”

Hotch watched you for a moment before nodding. His features softened and he placed his hand on your arm again. It was the most contact Hotch ever really gave, but it meant so much. “Are you okay?” 

You shook your head, managing to keep it together. “No. I’d be more concerned if I was.” You tried to crack a joke, causing both of you to smile before he nodded at you. “I’ll see you in there.” 

He left you standing by yourself, giving you a moment to collect yourself, before you followed him back into the house, back into the kitchen, back into the journals. 

Spencer being gone for so long meant you had a laundry list of things you missed about him. You missed the way he would ramble on about anything in the world that he knew about. You missed his sweater vests, how they never seemed to match his outfit, but somehow always pulled the look together. You missed his dorky smile at you from across his desk. You missed the notes he would leave you in your apartment when he would get up to get to work, knowing you always had arrived before him at work since you lived closer. You missed the feeling of his hands in yours. The feeling of the hand on your back, on your shoulder. 

But right now, you missed how fast that son of a bitch could read. Oh my god. If you had to read through one more of Tobias’ notebooks, you might lose your mind. You placed it facedown on the table and placed your head in your hands, giving your eyes a well deserved break. 

After a moment, Derek spoke up. “There’s something weird going on here.” He was slowly pacing around the table. 

“You think?” quipped the sheriff from across the room, and you snorted slightly in agreement and amusement. 

“No seriously, check this out.” Derek looked up at everyone in the kitchen. “This journal is full of religious ramblings. He notates hour by hour. November 15th, 3:17 – if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the lord, ye shall offer it of your own will. And it goes on and on. 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42, but then it goes blank for days.”

You removed your face from your hands, looking over at Derek. 

“Maybe he got sick of writing.” The sheriff offered up. 

“I think I got it.” 

“What is it?” Gideon prodded Hotch, all of you watching him. 

“Journal entry, December 6th, Father sick. Wants me to put him down. I say thou shalt not kill, he says honor thy father. Must pray for guidance.” Hotch looked over at Gideon. 

“So he kills his father as an act of mercy?” 

“This is two months ago. Tobias Hankel’s father had been dead for four months already.” Hotch raised his eyebrows, Gideon and Derek starting to realize what he was getting at. 

“That’s exactly it.” Derek moved one of the chairs away from the table. “Look at the floor. These scuff marks are fresh. I mean, it’s like two people were moving the chairs constantly trying to fight for control.” 

“So?”

“This journal matches Charles Hankel’s handwriting, but it was written after he died. Upstairs, Tobias’ bedroom—it’s got junk piled from floor to ceiling but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection.” Derek was explaining to the Sheriff, who honestly was starting to get on your nerves with some of these questions. 

“So you’re telling me one of Tobias’ personalities was his father?” 

“Well, Tobias was raised with a strict religious code. Black and white, right and wrong.” Gideon interrupted. “When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give.” 

“His brain couldn’t handle the moral contradiction so it split into two personalities in order to keep his father alive.” Hotch looked over at Derek, a conversation between the two of them happening silently and quickly. 

“So who is Raphael?” 

“My guess, he’s the mediator between the two.” You spoke up, watching hotch and derek before looking back at the sheriff. 

“Angels have no human emotions.” Gideon continued your thoughts. “Live or die, they don’t care. As long as it’s God’s will.”

“We need to start profiling Tobias’ father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid.” Hotch quickly looked at you before looking at Derek. 

Derek nodded and started to head out of the room. “I’ll get Garcia on it”. 

“Any luck with the rehab contact?” You looked up as Emily and JJ walked in, hoping they would have some answer for you. 

Emily sighed. “Well he has no idea where Hankel might be, but we did learn that he has a serious drug problem. Dilaudid.”

“Well that could explain the psychotic fracture.” Hotch nodded over at Gideon. 

“What are you talking about?”

Gideon, who had been staring at the photos all along the mirror that they had taped up, looked over at JJ. “Tobias is living as at least three different people; himself, Raphael, and his father.”

“Well this could be some bad news.” 

Honestly, to you, it felt like all the sheriff did was bring more and more bad news. 

“A computer store was robbed in the middle of the night. A suburb outside of Atlanta Thief got away with four laptops, external hard drives, and a satellite.”

“If it’s Tobias that puts him right back in business.” Hotch cast a quick glance over at you, watching as you tensed up, knowing the images you were desperately trying to keep out of your head. In response, you stood up and left the room, heading over to Derek and Penelope in the next room. 

Penelope was sitting at the desk, typing and typing away. Derek looked up as you entered, giving you a small smile. You shook your head. “They think Tobias stole—” Just as you started, your mouth stopped. The screens in front of Penelope had changed, going blank with one cursor in the corner. 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know.” Penelope’s eyes were wide. 

Spencer filled up every single screen, except for Penelope's laptop, and the one screen she was directly connected to. 

“Oh my god.” You yelled, one hand flying to cover up your mouth, the other immediately grabbing your necklace, eyes flitting from screen to screen. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening–it couldn’t be happening. 

Spencer was tied to a chair, his clothes disheveled, his hair a mess, he was missing both shoes and one sock. The left side of his head was soaked with blood, hair wet with it. 

This was your worst nightmare, and yet you could not look away. You watched as his chest rose and fell, giving you at least the calm that he was alive. But tears still pricked the corners of your eyes, breathing was becoming harder and harder, but you couldn’t shut down. Your body wouldn’t let you. 

Your yell had the others almost run into the room you were in, all of them barreling into the room, filling it up with bodies. Once they all looked at you, each one slowly realized what you were staring at. 

“He’s been beaten.” Emily so astutely pointed out. 

“Can’t you track him.” JJ was also struggling to breathe, guilt consuming her entire body. 

“Hankel’s only streaming this to his home computer.” Garcia said solemnly, still doing her best to find something, anything. 

Hotch turned to look at your face. At this point, most of the blood had left your face, leaving you pale, and nauseous. He tried to calmly gestured for you to leave, giving you an out, but you stared straight ahead, somehow becoming more pale, more sick, when Gideon pointed it out for you all. 

“This is for us. He knows we’re here.” 

Derek huffed and turned away for a second, trying not to bash the wall in. “I’m gonna put this guy’s head on a stick.” 

“Why can’t you locate him?” You could kiss Hotch for staying so level headed in this moment. Your eyes quickly tore away from the screens, looking at Garcia. 

“He’s rerouting to a different I.P. address every thirty seconds. I can’t track him.” 

Can you really see inside men’s minds?

All of you quickly found a screen to watch as you heard the voice take over. 

See these vermin? Choose one to die.

All you could do was stare at his face–his eyes. You had never seen Spencer so vulnerable, so tired, barely fighting at all. You watched as his eyes scanned across something to his right. All of you held your breath, waiting for Spencer to say something, anything. 

You choose one to live. 

“Oh my god.” You mumbled again as Spencer shook his head slightly, defying Tobias, or whoever’s wishes. 

I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior. 

“You’re a sadist in a psychotic break. You won’t stop killing. Your words aren’t true.” 

The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved. 

“I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.” Spencer was staring into his eyes, challenging him. But Tobias, or Charles, picked him up by the collar, both hands, and brought his face really close to Spencer's. 

Can you really see inside my mind boy. Can you see I'm not a liar. He chucked Spencer back into the chair, causing Spencer to flinch from another bruise you probably couldn't see. Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise they’re all dead. 

“All right. I’ll choose who lives.” You inhaled sharply, Derek tensing up next to you. 

They’re all the same. 

You all waited, in silence, as Spencer scanned what you assumed were the laptops that had been stolen. His eyes flickered to the camcorder, shame in voice, looking back at Tobias or Charles. “Far right screen.”

Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creek Road

“You got that?” 

“Marilyn David. My name is Jason Gideon with the F.B.I. I need you to close your laptop screen right now. Someone has been connecting into your laptop’s camera and watching you. For your safety, you need to close it. 

“Raphael.” 

The computer screens went black. 

“Garcia, get him back.” 

Derek turned away, slamming the door against the wall as he stalked out of the room, beyond pissed. 

“Garcia, get him back.” You repeated, absolute horror dawning on all of your faces. Your eyes were frantically running over every screen every ten seconds, hoping that maybe one of them would still hold the image of Spencer. 

“I’m t-trying.” She whispered, furiously typing away, trying to hack into something, or find Hankel, anything really. 

“So now what. Wait for a 911 call?” The sheriff's voice rang out in your ear, and it grated against you. “And hope we get there in time.” 

Once you had gotten the 911 call, you, JJ, Emily, and Derek were told to stay at the house with Garcia. You heard Derek and JJ in one of the other rooms, but you were just standing next to Garcia’s chair, not moving an inch. All you could do was stare at the screens, eyes flitting from face to face on unexpecting potential victims. 

JJ walked in, looking more like she had in the barn–disheveled, guilty. “Any more signs of Reid.” 

Both you and Garcia shook your heads. 

“He just posted the last murder online.” Garcia’s voice was grave, eyes dark. “It had over 17,000 hits in the first twenty minutes.” 

“I want to see it.” 

“No you don’t.” You answered JJ, not turning to look at her. 

“Don’t tell me what I want and don’t want.” 

You tore your eyes away from the screens and over at JJ. 

“If I can’t watch this…I have no business being in the field.” 

“J-ge, it’s not a competition.” Garcia whispered. 

“I-I need to see it.” 

You shook your head and walked out of the room, not being able to watch it again. You walked into the kitchen where Derek and Emily were, discussing something. Derek’s eyes quickly flicked over to you, surprised slightly by the fact that you had left the screens. 

“We can trace their whole family history. Here we got happy smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all A’s and B’s. But at eight years old, we got nothing.” 

“That’s his mother leaving.” Emily shot you a quick, yet sympathetic smile, before looking back at the mirror. “Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit.”

“Then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son.” Derek continued. 

“Which corresponds to Tobias’ drug use. He’s trying to escape.” You watched as Emily and Derek worked through the profile again. 

“So wherever Reid is, It was Tobias’ choice, not his fathers.” Derek sighed and scanned over the pictures, trying to find maybe a common location amongst them. 

“How’d you figure?”

“Look at these two lives. They’re like inverse graphs. One’s getting weaker while the other ones getting angrier. Tobias would run away while his father would have stood and fought.” Derek looked back at Emily. 

She nodded. “Okay so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I’ll go back through the journals and see if I can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place 

“Uh where’s Gideon.” You finally spoke up. 

“He’s upstairs. Why? What’s going on?” 

“Hankel just posted the latest murder.” JJ walked out of the room that you had just been in. 

You watched as she quickly called out to Gideon that the newest murder had been uploaded, and as he quickly made his way into the adjoining room. You heard him panicking, trying to come up with a solution to get people to stop watching the videos. 

You were fiddling with your necklace, mind lost on the day before all of this started. It had been sunny in DC. Something you didn’t get all the time, especially when you were only there half of the year. You had gone over to Spencer's apartment, picking up your favorite take out on the way over. He had been teaching you how to play chess. You already knew the basics of chess, which pieces moved where, and how to analyze a board on a move to move basis, but Spencer started to teach you strategies. He would explain every single move he was making, and how he was able to predict a check in three. It was adorable. In return, for every game you would learn together, Spencer would watch a movie with you. He would watch movies if you had asked him in the first place, but this time, you gave him what he thought was the most enthralling commentary the entire time. You would put on your favorite movies and ramble on and on about a certain actor getting sick during this shot, or the fact that the two romantic leads hated one another, or even someone breaking their toe during one scene—he adored listening to you ramble, in the same way you loved listening to him. That night was movie night. You had picked cult-classic “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” you were absolutely enthralled to explain to Spencer the interactive portions of the movies, the screaming at the screen, the details of the pink triangle on Dr. Franknfurter’s smock, the repetition of certain musical themes. You two hands ended up tangled on the couch, giggling about something, drunk on each other’s company—it was perfect. 

But the sound of Spencer’s sob ripped through your thoughts. It took you three strides to be back with Garcia and Gideon, watching as Tobias slammed his fist across Spencer’s face. Your hands moved to your mouth as your eyes watered. 

You heard as he begged Tobias to help him, bruises flowering across his face, a cut across his lip breaking the once smooth skin. 

He can’t help you. He’s weak. Confess. Confess your sins. 

You watched as Spencer’s chair was chucked to the ground, while he was still tied to it. Every single atom of air had left your lungs. You could feel the pit of your stomach drop, unable to move, unable to blink. Tears welled up in your eyes as the love of your life was being beaten to death, and you couldn't do anything about it. 

Several studies have shown that plants can feel pain. Whether or not they are completely and one hundred percent credible is something you and Spencer have jokingly argued about multiple times. You liked to think that they didn’t considering you managed to bring in a fresh crop of newly cut flowers each week. But these scientists claim that plants can feel pain. They can feel the pain of being cut from the vine or stem, and they can feel themselves dying as you watch them wilt in the vase. You and JJ were quite similar in feeling like you had to prove something to yourself, that if you couldn’t handle what was happening, maybe you shouldn’t be in the field, shouldn’t be in the BAU. 

Watching Spencer have a seizure on the ground, unable to run to him, unable to save him, unable to do anything but just watch in horror, made you feel every single ounce of pain you could have ever imagined. When his body stilled, and Tobias exited whatever building they were in, you were still standing there, completely and utterly in shock. Hotch took your arm and wordlessly tugged on your arm, but you couldn’t move. Your feet were cemented to the floor. Even if you wanted to run the other way, you couldn’t. Hotch tried again, but you just stared at the screen, constantly flipping the necklace over and over and over and over again. If you moved, you might start sobbing, you might collapse, you might have just died on the spot. 

Spencer's lips were still. His lips would ramble when he had something he found quite interesting to speak about, they would fidget when he got nervous, they would form quirky expressions when he had a moment of realization. But not once have they ever been this still. And it was dissolving your heart. Moment by moment another small section would boil down to dust, not even letting you have the chance to have your heart ripped out, because that would mean your heart would still be together, still be beating, just not with you anymore. Your heart was dying because Spencer was dead. 

The first stage of grief is denial. All you could do was hope, pray, anything that this was some sick and twisted joke, that Spencer was okay. That Spencer was alive. That you weren’t staring at Spencer’s body on the screen, not knowing where he was, and if you would ever find him, or his body. 

Lucky for every single person in that room, and lucky for Tobias Hankel, you watched as he burst back through the door, dropped down to his knees, and tried to resuscitate Spencer. Your eyes widened as you watched every single chest compression, every single moment of mouth to mouth. After the longest thirty seconds of your life, Spencer convulsed, air filling his lungs, coughing. 

“Oh my god.” You almost threw up into the hands that were covering your mouth because you were so grateful for the fact that Spencer was breathing, that his dead body was somewhere you might never have found it. 

“Wait. Wait a second.” Emily leaned over to Garcia. “When was the video of the last murder poster?” 

“9:23.” 

“And what was the time of death?” 

“The 911 call came in at 9:04, and the murders must have been moments later.”

“That's only a 19 minute difference.” You spoke up, figuring out what Emily was getting at. 

“How long would it take to post the mpeg.” Derek chimed in. 

“2, 3 minutes.” Garcia looked over at you all. 

“Lets call it 2. You figure a maximum of sixty miles per hour in a residential area, that means Hankel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene.” Derek reasoned, looking over at Hotch. 

“Garcia, can we see it on a map?” Hotch leaned over Garcia. 

“Call Farraday. I want that area locked down like it’s martial law.” Gideon turned to Derek, ready to give more instructions but you interrupted. 

“Guys.” 

You came back to life. 

Spencer was looking up at Rapheal now. The complete shift in tone from Charles to Raphael to Tobias always made your hair stand on edge, but you could hear the anger that Raphael held. 

There can only be one of two reasons. 

“I was given CPR.” Even after he was just given his life back, he still managed to crack a joke.  

There are no accidents. How many members are on your team? 

“Seven”

You paused, ready to speak up, but Tobias beat you to it. 

The seven angels who had the seven trumpets who prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and fire, mixed with blood and they were thrown to the earth. 

“He thinks it’s revelations. The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death.” Hotch explained.

“Hotch there are eight of us on this team.” You spoke, this time garnering the attention of everyone in the room. “He’s lying to Hankel, that's considered a sin right? If Hankel finds out—”

You were interrupted by the sound of a chair hitting the ground. Hankel had yanked Spencer’s chair upright, watching as he was jostled around. 

Tell me who you serve.

“I serve you”

Then choose one to die

“What”

Your team members choose one to die. 

“Kill me” 

You inhaled sharply causing one of Derek's hands to find the small of your back. You had already watched him die once, but you can’t give CPR to a bullet through the brain.

You said you weren't one of them

“I lied”

Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies. 

“No”

All of you watch as Tobias pulls one bullet out of his pocket, and clicks open the revolver. He placed it in, and spun the barrel, letting it close with a click. Spencer playing Russian roulette was not on your bucket list of things to do this year. Maybe force him to go kayaking with you, let him teach you some other game like Go, maybe even take a few days off for a real vacation and work each other up so desperately. But you could guarantee, this was not on that list. 

Each time Spencer refused, and you heard the empty barrel fire, your heart gave out, again. 

Choose, and prove you’ll do god's will. 

“No.”

Click.

And again.

Choose. 

“I won’t do it”. 

Click. 

And again.

Life is a choice. 

“No.”

Click. 

And again.

Choose. 

Spencer’s pause made everyone hold their breaths. He had a 33.33% chance of getting shot, and luck had to run out, it always did. 

“I-I choose…” You all waited, no one truly knowing what he could possibly be thinking. “Y/N Y/L/N.” Derek's hand on your back tensed up, all eyes looked at you, and all you could do was stare at Spencer on the screen. He wouldn’t just hand out your death sentence like that, he wouldn’t do that to you. Right? Right?

“Adulterer, cheating on my for months now. Puts their own needs above others and their feelings.” Your brows furrowed, hand immediately at the necklace you were wearing around your neck. This accusation confused the absolute shit out of you, since you had revealed to Spencer your history with a previous partner who had chea–oh. He was speaking to you. 

“Oh my god.” You whispered. 

“I would come home to bouquets of crimson roses and rosemary, or there would be begonias and clematis. I've only ever bought red salvias with baby’s breath—their favorite.” Spencer chuckled, putting on an act for Tobias. 

“Pen! I need a pen.” You yelled, everyone now concerned you had lost your mind, but Garcia had quickly handed you hers as you tried to write down the flowers Spencer had listed off. Once you had all of them written down, you quickly ran out of the room.

“Genesis 23:4, For the lips of an immoral woman are as sweet as honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil. But in the end she is as bitter as poison, as dangerous as a double-edged sword.”

You only paused for a moment when you heard a gunshot, but you kept going, hoping and praying that you were right. You had found one of the empty pages of Tobais’ journals and wrote down the flowers:

crimson roses - mourning rosemary - remembrance clematis - poverty begonias - beware, watch out

You looked at the list of the flowers, over and over. “Mourning…” You mumbled, when it hit you. Quickly, you grabbed the bible on the table, flipping to find Genesis 23:4. 

Morgan walked into the room, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Look I don't know about this potential relationship that you and Spenc-"

“I’m not a cheater.” You cast him a quick look, still flipping to find the page. 

Derek started. “He’s not in his right mind Y/n.” 

Gideon quickly followed. “Come on, look you can’t think anything of that..” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Well, yes, it is, but that’s not–”

Hotch cut you off. “He’s panickin—”

“Everyone. Stop.” They all obliged, watching as you picked up the notebook you had been writing in. “What is my worst quality?”

They all just stared at you.

“Okay I’ll start, I can be a total bitch.” 

“You miss a concerning amount of briefings.” 

“You can get overly emotional sometimes.”

“You’re extremely stubborn.” 

“You don’t trust anyone easily.” 

“Okay good, I’m all these things, but none of you said that I would ever put my needs over anyone. Especially over other’s feelings. Reid and I had a conversation about two weeks ago about my ex who would repeatedly cheat on me, among other things.” You took a little breath before continuing. “And he knew I would obviously remember a conversation like that. He also knows I love Victorian Flower Language, it’s one of my favorite interests. Some of the flowers he listed off,  correspond to flowers you send in mourning, when someone has died, not the flowers you send someone to admit their love or hide it.” 

You handed the bible to JJ. “And he also quoted Genesis Chapter 23, verse 4, Read it.”

JJ read out: “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you, that I might bury my dead out of sight.”

“Spencer would never get it wrong unless it was on purpose. He’s in a cemetery.” 

“I don’t see a cemetery” Garcia had pulled up the 17-mile radius again, looking between you and Hotch. 

“Call up the first time we saw Reid.” Gideon was rubbing his hands together, trying to remember something. 

“I won't choose who gets slaughtered, and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.” 

Spencer had looked right at the camera, fucking brilliant man. He had been trying to contact you all since the first time he was on camera.

“Check to see if there are any reports of poaching in the last couple of days.” Hotch nodded at Gideon while Garcia speedily typed out her parameters, getting a response almost instantly. 

“Okay uh, a farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”

“Where are we talking?” Derek was behind you, watching as Garcia zoomed into a five mile radius around the farmer’s land. 

“It would be someone that was old, dilapidated, run down. Clematis is a sign of poverty.”

JJ pointed to a small section on the screen. “What’s that patch of green there”

“Marshall parish, I think it's an old plantation.” 

“Wait.” Emily quickly flipped through a journal, trying to find what she had remembered. “Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall.”

“Guys. There's a cemetery on the grounds.” 

“Alright.” Hotch nodded at all of you. “Let's go.” 

As you all headed out, Hotch stopped you, pulling you past the kitchen and into the living room. Derek shot you a sympathetic smile as he and the rest of the team exited the building. The living room would be far enough away from Penelope's prying ears, but it’s not like it mattered anymore—it was pretty obvious you and Spencer were sleeping together, if not dating. 

“You’re not going.” 

You scoffed at Hotch, expecting nothing less, but still willing to fight him about it. 

“I’m serious Y/N. I need everyone out there to be as level headed as possible, and you and I both know that the second Spencer put his life on the line, second time round, you were about to raise hell and earth to get to him. If you can promise me, right here, right now, that your head is completely clear, then I will let you go with us, no questions asked.” 

You pinched your eyes, letting out a hefty sigh. “Hotch I cannot be here in case he needs me.” 

“If he gets hurt, you will not be able to function as an agent, and that is a risk I am not willing to take.” 

Hotch is right. He almost always is.

The porch door swung open with the loudest screech yet, Derek appearing in his bullet proof vest, holding Hotch’s in his hand. “We’re heading out.” 

Hotch nodded at you, a brief hand on your arm, before walking to the door. 

“Hotch?” 

He looked over at you. 

“The last flower? Begonias?” He nodded at you, not sure where you were going with this. 

“If you were sent begonias…it was a subtle warning that you were in danger. Please, be careful.” 

“We will.” 

And with that, the door slammed shut, and suddenly you were stuck in a ranch house, wondering whether or not Spencer was okay, and whether or not your team would even make it on time. You clutched at the necklace, twirling the pendant, watching as the headlights faded into the darkness, with the very real possibility, someone might not come back. 

Next Part

#spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x gn!reader

[sxfthannie]

Possessive

↦ pairing: yandere!coups x reader

↦ warnings: yandere genre is a warning itself ig?

↦ note: just randomly thought about what type of yandere coups would be and he strikes me as a possessive type so here it is!

↦ word count: 730

Seungcheol gazed at you with a gentle smile gracing his lips, admiring the way you consume the meal he has prepared for you. Your hand trembles ever so slightly as you bring the chopsticks to your lips, but to him, it only adds to your cuteness.

"You're finally eating properly." He remarked, interrupting your actions as you glanced up at him from across the rustic dining table. Seungcheol noticed you setting down your utensils, already knowing the words that are about to escape your lips. "Please, let me go." You whispered, barely audible, but the tranquil forest that envelops the wooden house amplifies your voice.

"Aigoo, my precious one." He coos, sliding into the chair beside you and taking hold of your chopsticks. "You mustn't waste your food." He ignores your pathetic begs.

His smile is gentle, but his touch is insistent as he guides the food towards your lips. You resist, pushing his hand away, and he clicks his tongue in frustration. "You were doing so well." He sighs, setting the chopsticks down with a sharp thud. "Do I need to starve you again?" His eyes bore into yours, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

As the tears finally made their way down your cheeks, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The weight of missing your home, family, friends, and the life you once knew was too much to bear. But what hurt the most was missing the Seungcheol you once knew - the CEO who guided you with unwavering patience, correcting your work-related blunders with a gentle touch.

"Please, Seungcheol. I miss my family, my friends." you begged him again, his smile returning to his face. "You don't need them." He spoke in a voice that was soft and soothing that might have calmed you before, but it only sent shivers down your spine now. "All you need is me." He wiped away your tears, and you didn't dare move away from his touch, afraid that you might anger him again.

"I am the answer to all your needs, my love." He whispers, his hand gently caressing your cheek. "You will get caught one day." You glare at him through tear-filled eyes, warning him of the consequences of his actions. But he only chuckles, amused by your futile attempts to stop him. "Caught? Me?" He laughs. "It took me two years to plan this whole thing. Do you really think I'll get caught?"

He pulls you towards the living room, sitting down on the sofa and tugging you onto his lap. You felt uncomfortable, but you didn't fight back knowing his strength couldn’t be compared.

"Even if I did leave evidence, I have a man on the inside. A trustworthy ally in the police department." He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. "A cop is your ally?" Your brows furrow in disbelief as he nods to your question. "Surprising isn’t it?" Seungcheol’s finger traces the line of your cheekbone and down to your neck. "To witness such injustice from those who are meant to uphold the law." His dark orbs flicker towards yours. "What a sad world we live in."

You were completely caught in his trap, like a helpless fly caught in the spider's embrace. The very air around you seemed to thicken with his presence, suffocating you with his power. Even the damn cop was in on it, a willing pawn in his twisted game.

He smiled at you, a sickly sweet expression that made your skin crawl. He lifted you from his lap and placed you on the couch, as if you were a child to be coddled. "Stay here like the good girl you are." He said, his voice dripping with honey. "I have some business to attend to." You watched him put on his shoes, wondering where he was going. Seunghceol answered your unspoken question with a smirk. "The cops want to talk to me about you," he said. "But don't worry, my love. They have no idea you're here with me."

He laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the empty house. "Don't even think about leaving." he warned, turning to face you. "You won't make it far in this forest. And I wouldn't want to have to come looking for you." With that, he left, the sound of the front door slamming shut ringing in your ears.

You were alone, trapped in his lair with no hope of escape.

#cheollie ! #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #yandere seungcheol #yandere scoups #yandere seventeen #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #nia yandere ! #csc possessive

[vashhanamichi]

I’m insane and out of my depth but I like to think about different metaphors for the relationship between Harry, Voldemort and Dumbledore. Although the obvious one is Dumbledore as God, Harry as Christ and Voldemort as Satan sometimes they seem to me akin to a mortal family, such are the families in the great Greek tragedies, families whose drama is incensed by the Gods and whose stakes are high enough to affect cities, countries, generations.

I’m thinking about the cursed House of Atreus and this post by the amazing @artemideaddams and these are the bits that I think apply the most to the Dumbledore-Harry-Voldemort triad:

(…) would the family fail, the whole country would fail too. The gods know that.

For Iphigenia to be Clitemnestra's favourite daughter, she need to die first.

She has long known that the only child that could never become their father is the one that will forever be a child. The only one who would have never mourned his death was the one killed by him.

Iphigenia had two moments of glory in her story: when her father killed her, and when her mother avenged her. Being killed, being avenged. Being a pawn to kill or an excuse to kill may not be so different, after all. No one ask for her opinion in both cases.

if Iphigenia would have not be so good, so perfect (…) she would have been free to just BE.

I love characters who are aware of their role in the narrative but cannot stop the narrative from unfolding like Captain Crozier in The Terror. He knows he’s in a tragedy/horror, he knows they’re doomed but he can’t change his fate or the fate of his men.

When Harry realises that he is a Horcrux he occupies a similar state of mind: he knows what genre of story he inhabits. He knows he’s meant to be his world’s Christ. Then all remaining childhood illusions dissolve: he was never meant to live, he was always meant to die. These seventeen years he spent between two of Voldemort’s kisses are but an intermission between acts in an opera. Like most of the famous Arias, Harry is meant to die before the curtain closes. Like Iphigenia as she learns of her role:

we talk about Harry as a “good little soldier” but I think we are mistaken: his obedience is filial. Like a good son, a good daughter. Dumbledore is, in his own words, his last and greatest protector. His last parent figure.

Harry gets to be the perfect child and, thus, the perfect lamb. Dumbledore loves him. And through that love that sacrifice is made greater.

What could ease Artemis’ anger so the winds could sail Agamemnon’s fleet to Troy? What sacred deer? What killing should be done to conquer the Dark Lord?

Not just any wizard, not just any child, not just any son, any daughter — a perfect one, whose unbreakable obedience would have him go to his death willingly. Harry doesn’t run, doesn’t cower. He goes willingly.

Harry is like a child caught in the midst of a nasty divorce. Crushed between Mother (Dumbledore) and Father (Voldemort).

My mother, she killed me,

My father, he ate me

But Voldemort’s role is ambiguous. Dumbledore is a parent figure to him as well — and they’re bitterly disappointed in each other. Let us remember, however, that the House of Atreus is a house of incest. Son-husband Voldemort to mother-wife Dumbledore is everything Harry isn’t. He’d never laid down his life in sacrifice. He’s too much like the unspoken root of Dumbledore’s rot, Grindelwald. Tom Riddle grew up in a way that Harry didn’t, and by growing up he became like Grindelwald, the unspoken Father, the unspoken Husband.

By dying, Harry is perfect. By refusing mortality Tom Riddle is corrupted.

As @artemideaddams puts it, regarding Iphigenia: no one asked her opinion. Harry obeys his mother and is consumed by his father. He is filial to both. He is a lamb to both.

#will come back to this later #anyway #riddledore #harry potter #albus dumbledore #tom riddle #lord voldemort

[gumjester]

SO THIS IS THE GRIPE WITH EPIC WINTER

I HAVE RESISTED IT! I HAVE RESISTED MY OWN RAGE! I HAVE SEEN PEOPLE TALK SALT ABOUT EPIC WINTER AND I AGREE WITH THEIR POINTS AND I DO NOT WISH 2 ADD NEEDLESSLY 2 THE DELUGE.

HOWEVER.

there is one thing!!!! i have not seen people discuss and it is the thing that pisses me off the most. i am NOTHING if not a keeper of Lore!!!! so here this is: my manifesto.

i feel like i am not making a bold claim when i say that in order for the moral and story of ever after high to function appropriately, destiny must not have any intrinsic, immovable influence over anyone's life. you can choose to follow your written destiny, of course! you can also choose not to follow your written destiny. i feel as if this is very much baby's first observation about ever after high. destiny is simply the societal expectation placed upon people to uphold the existing system, and if you do not follow it, you do not disappear forever in a wormhole. destiny is not the decider of your fate; you are. this is dare i say! the point of the show!

epic winter!!!!!! destroys this idea entirely!!!!! actually, you could make the case that dragon games does as well! but more on that in a second!

epic winter looks at daring, a boy living his life after the storybook of legends - the artefact that supposedly is the one thing that binds a person to their destiny - has been destroyed without him ever laying a finger on it, let alone signing it, and decides that today, he will fulfil his destiny! the one he wasnt even aware he fucking had, lending him absolutely no agency in this matter!! ...!!!?!?

SO RIDDLE ME THIS!!!! WHAT'S THE POINT THEN!!!!! what is the point of ANYTHING raven or the rebellion has done or anything they believe about writing your own story if destiny is, in truth, very concious and intentional and likes fate very much actually and will funnel ur sorry little ass into a story regardless? the workings of destiny were apparently not contained in the book, so raven's actions on legacy day meant nothing and seemingly did all her actions thereafter, just sweating herself 2 death in her little exercise in futility because you have no control actually :) fate exists and it can make you the evil queen whenever it wants! or the swan princess! or little miss muffet! just because destiny might not manifest in the way you expect does not mean that it is any less worth fighting against, and i find the idea that destiny is suddenly perfectly acceptable in this instance because daring ending up actually liking rosabella, objectionable, to say the LEAST.

and while we're here, a note on dragon games! i think it can be somewhat excused from this philosophical tangle because the whole instance of apple fulfilling HER initial destiny (getting poisoned by the apple) was completely intentional on faybelle and the evil queens part. they capitalised on her existing nature and pushed destiny upon her. as for the kiss well!!! that's what i consider the tip of the iceberg before epic winter plunges fully into the ice-cold depths of this arctic shitstorm. daring is not subject to the same circumstances as apple. the snow king has no idea who he is when he curses him, and rosabella does not know he will be the beast either when she first starts speaking to him!! its all so terribly, hauntingly organic. everyone is a pawn, orchestrated entirely by fate, and the original moral core of the show lies blugeoned in some dark corner, reduced to ruins by the all-consuming inevitability of destiny.

god . i hate epic winter`

#ever after high #eah #daring charming #rosabella beauty #eah epic winter #epic winter #SURELY IVE MISSED A POINT HERE. SURELY IVE GOT SOMETHING WRONG. I DONT UNDERSTAND #i will say outright that i have not seen epic winter in its entirety for a while but this is literally just the overarching plot!!!! #these are the core beats!!! WHATS GOING ON

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 11

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

"Jake calm down!" Jake was furious, fuming. If he didn't calm down at this pace he'd turn into a cartoon character with smoke coming from their nose and ears.

Kai was asleep in his room, he insisted on taking Alfie to sleep with him. Kai has fallen in love with that dog. Alfie became his new best friend. You adored it and so did Jake but with the two of them sleeping, the two of you had to tone down.

"How am I meant to calm down, Cobra! He basically threatened you," Jake was pacing up and down the room. You didn't know how to calm him down. You informed Jake about your meet and greet in the hall with Matthew and let's just say it drove your boyfriend mad.

"Jake we have bigger things in mind! There's a bloody killer, swiping us all off and you're here worried about my ex?!?" You were terrified. The whole dagger crew was nearly eliminated. Just you, Bradley, Jake and Javy. Each of the others was knocked down like a pawn in a failed match of chess.

This stops Jake and he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist. His arms delicately rest on your hips as he comes closer, kissing your forehead and reassuring you, "Cobs, I'd fucking die before letting anything happen to you or Kai. You guys saved me and I'll do anything to save you." You nod and pull into his chest.

You were scared, shaking in fear was a way to put it. You didn't know what to do, you were scared for life and your friends were just out six feet underground. You pulled back, and nodded tiredly. He smiled at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before relaying his delicate lips on top of yours. You hum into the kiss before you pull apart.

"Should I clean up?" You wondered, due to the two wine glasses and earlier dinner plates that were still left to be washed. He shook his head, leading you towards your son's bedroom. You stand in front of the frame as he answers. "Go, lay with Kai. I'll clean up and I still have some work. Rest, okay? The two of you are safe."

"And Alfie?"

"And Alfie."

You open the door and step in as Jake heads speeding into the kitchen to reach his phone. Have you ever seen a cartoon character run? You know, like tom, from Tom and jerry. When his legs turn into wheels due to the incredible speed he just took off at? Yep, that was the perfect way to describe Jake.

He rushes over to his phone to quickly send an email. He knew this had to be quick and fast, mixed with a good bribe and paycheck. He looks back over to the door that he sent you into. He knew if you caught him doing this you'd be fuming, absolutely ballistic.

He just emailed Justin to contact Matthew. It was a set up. If Matthew believed that he was going to meet Justin and then magically bumped into Jake's fist nothing bad would happen, right? Just a coincidence. Jake quickly went to his contact list, calling straight to Coyotes number.

'Hello?'

'Javy, meet me at the old factory near the deck in twenty.'

------

After everything that happened, Matthew was out of control at the start. His father was in jail, his brother murder and a lot of more dilemma that nobody cares about or asked for. You simply never thought youd end up in this situation.

You were running through the parking lot. He was on your heels, he was chasing you and wouldn't stop. He was armed as well. You keep running as fast you could until you took the wrong turn. He came out of nowhere. You didn't see him coming. He grabbed your hair and pushed you down. The wind was knocked out of you. The words were taken out of your mouth as you lay flat on the ground and he kneeled against your chest.

"You took everything from me."

Matthew was furious, he held the gun to your head and you were sure he was about to pull the trigger from you more than instantly. He was right, you did just ruin him. But he had taken more from you. His family ruined you, you played their little good girl slave for a while too long.

"You did it first."

------

Jake looked over at the faint body, that was tied to the pole. The man's body, was sat down, legs wide open in a v-shape, arms tied behind his back and neck quite crushed due to choking force. Javy looked over at his friend and didn't know what to say. This was the right thing. Right? I mean it had to be.

"He's not dead properly, he's dying though." Justins voice comes from the darkness as he wears his black gloves with a knive twirling in his fingers. All three men are now standing side by side. They all stare at the still, somehow, alive man tied to the pole. They knew Iif they left it like this, it'd be obvious it was them who did this.

"So you're telling me that thing can still breathe?" Javy asks, point at Matthew's corpse like body as Jake never lifts his gaze of Matthew.

This man was the reason you have lived in fear for years. Each day of your and his marriage was another day of him mistreating you and your future son. He disgusted Jake, how could a man that was kissed by god's blessing, mistreat a woman like you.

"He used to hurt her, you know. After his brother and father, he chose drugs and chugged down with alcohol. He deserved it." Justins words were true, syllable to syllable. But did he deserve it? Nobody deserved to die by their neck getting broken against a pole. Nobody deserved to be strangled by three men on a late nights evening.

But he did hurt you. He tortured you. Used you. He hurt you all your life, in ways nobody knew before. Matthew did deserve it.

"I didn't mean this to happen." Jake was still in a trance. He's killed many men in his days but he has never, never in his full career, felt sorry about it. And now he may, scratch that, he just killed Kai's father and your old husband.

"I know. Look… You two leave. I'll finish the poor bastard off." Javy and Jake just nod and let Justin finish Matthew and take the grown man out of his misery. The two friends walk out. Javy lays his hand upon Jake's back and paths him in reassurance. This wasn't Jake's fault, Matthew threatened you and Jake along with Kai. He was the man who wasted your life.

The sound of something like an atomic drill burst their eardrums. It's like the whole world went numb. Everything went numb.

That's the sound of a machine gun.

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[billystears]

Max’s entire speech upset me immensely, as someone who deeply relates to Billy’s struggles and his character as a whole.

Watching him stand up for himself, and take on the mind flayer in the midst of mental torture in season 3 meant the world to me, despite it resulting in his death. That moment of bravery honestly taught me many lessons that I insert in my own daily struggles. But now we’re told he wasn’t a hero for it.

He was an 18 year old child, plagued by his past and struggles, longing to find someone who cared while he was used as a pawn by an otherworldly being, and clearly terrified. He was tortured and they say he deserved it?

To hear he didn’t deserve to be saved SHATTERS me. What I hear, is that he didn’t deserve anyone fighting for him. He didn’t deserve anyone defending him, understanding him. He didn’t deserve what he craved all his life. Even in death he was left to fend for himself, against something stronger than him.

Were his past actions okay? No, absolutely not- but any abuse victim, any child, teen, adult, and so forth holding onto any sort of trauma deserves a second chance. We all deserve someone to fight by our side and show us we can turn around, and that we aren’t our past. We shouldve been able to see his growth and his development.

Hearing that she prayed he DIED, was just weirdly unnecessary even if it was a “ruse,” it was honestly disgusting. I understand he was difficult to live with. But praying for his demise, his death in a car wreck? uncalled for. Plus, Disregarding the bond that was clearly there in Dear Billy is annoying. It should’ve been played on a lot more than it was. We should’ve seen their relationship deeper than what they’ve shown us.

Using Billy to further torture Max with her memories is also horrendous. We deserved to see at least ONE scene where they bonded. One moment where the briefest grin was exchanged, because I know there was at least one. Why couldn’t a positive moment be a part of her montage, a good memory that pulls her back? Why can’t we be shown that he ISNT just some monster? He’s a human being. A heartbroken, terrified teenager who hasn’t been given a break since he was a child. And now.. we’re using him as bait?

He deserved redemption, he deserved more than what we got in the second part, not only for his character, but for everyone who could relate. A moment to show that I deserve to be saved.

#billy hargrove #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 2 #st4 spoilers #harringrove #max mayfield #duffer brothers

[dellalyra]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝗼𝗺 - 𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘱𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵? 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴

A council meeting, 15 Jujutsu Higher ups, all named in agreements previously signed to destroy ‘threats’ to society.

3 men who were involved in a plot that almost killed you 13 years ago.

4 men who listed your 2 year old son on a list of ‘potential adversaries’.

6 men who were involved with the fiasco of the Plasma Star Vessel.

2 men who named Gojo as the one to kill Geto.

4 men who concocted the plan to send Yuuji Itadori to his death at the Juvenile Detention Centre.

5 men who agreed to let a little boy be sold to a destructive family at the expense of his sister, then tried to stop his legal adoption by a loving family.

4 men who you knew for a fact beat their wives.

3 men who you knew attempted to persuade young female sorcerers that there were ‘other’ ways to get promoted.

15 men who signed the death warrant for Yuuji Itadori.

15 men who signed the death warrant for Yaga Masamichi.

15 men who signed the degree that Gojo Satoru was to be left in limbo, resigned forever to the Prison Realm.

15 men who named you an enemy of society and 15 men who tore your life apart from its very roots.

After he was unsealed - you both knew what would happen.

Several lifetimes worth of pain and anguish at the hands of these men had culminated in a mutual understanding of what Gojo had meant when he said he’d be attending the council meeting. He smiled at you, seeing you strapping your daggers to your thighs before you left. Only a level of trust borne from years and years of love and tied consciousness, blood and heartache would cultivate the intensity of the faith you had in each other.

For years, you had both dreamed of a new world - shaped with love and learning. When he left, wanting a new world - shaped from blood and anger, your hearts had broken. He had died for his cause. You had killed for yours.

Ironic, really, that if you all survive this - the new world was shaped by love, learning, blood and anger. Two visions and paths converged even though one dreamer was dead.

You know he’d love the scene you are witnessing. They all would, Nanami, Yaga, Mai, Kokichi, Yuki - fuck, even Toji.

You’re doing this for the ones who can’t. Nobara - they killed her best friend. Toge - who’s been ostracised by them his whole life. Panda - who’s father was slaughter by them. Choso - left in a test tube by them in a warehouse for 150 years. Akio - who has been sent to the other side of world, away from his parents - to prevent him being used as a pawn against his father and mother. Megumi. Who they have taken everything from, again and again.

The room fell silent.

15 voices had echoed throughout the building.

Now: nothing.

“You have been released?” The chairman asks, incredulous.

“Was this your doing, woman?” Another growled at you.

“Hana Kurusu.” Satoru said, voice eerily lacking in its usual joy.

“After the culling games, if she survives - she will be sentenced to death. You were to stay sealed, Gojo. Any who aid you, will face the same fate. Mrs. Gojo, you are clearly part of the scheme - I am not foolish enough to seize you, myself. Saito - call upon Okkotsu. His post as executioner has been reinstated. He must come here at once - Gojo, should you interfere, your son will pay the price. We know where your family home is, and have guards posted nearby as secondary plans.”

Saito, who once called you a Gojo breeding mare, stood, making his way to the large double doors, and as he attempted to push them open.

They would not sway.

He tried again, but the door remained steadfast. Nobody noticed the steadfast vines holding the doors together.

A murmur in the room broke out.

“Whatever intimidation tactic you think you can use is fruitless.” Ikeda, a close friend of Naobito Zen’in who was a signature on the plot to kill Yuuji, stated.

“Whatever you try, 30 miles from here is your son. Do not forget this.”

“Imbeciles.” You sneer.

“How is that, Mrs. Gojo?”

“You talk about our home? That is 30 miles away, where your guards are stationed confining where you think our son is, in case you decided to use him against us. Yet, did any of you think to check? Did any of you see him?”

They all swap looks, understanding your words.

“He is not there. In fact, as a contingency plan - anyone you could use as blackmail, or collateral, they’re all gone. I don’t even know where my son is, he could be next door or in fucking Peru for all I know. The students, all in the culling games, you can’t reach them. It’s just us now.” You smile, locking eyes with the chairman.

“It’s just us, and, the doors are locked.” Satoru smirks.

In an instant, 15 sets of feet stood up preparing to fight. It wasn’t necessary.

15 versus 2? Sounds like bad odds.

Good thing you’re both anomalies.

Satoru; filled with anger. With power - overwhelming power and strength coursing from his very bones was prickling the air - the air felt like static as several of the weaker men dropped to their knees to plea for their pathetic lives. They had taken his best friend, a beautiful little girl, the father of his son, his innocence, the boy he saw as his son - they almost took you - so many times, in plots and schemes to rid the world of the L/N clan head before your power grow to an untouchable level, but they were weak - you had always been untouchable. Those who tortured Maki, Toge, Panda - they killed his mentor.

Years of anger, of hurt and holding back had peaked in him. His eyes lay upon the men like a blanket of stone.

You; standing there, personification of the phrase ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’, no physical power, tiny beside the hulking mass of your husband, but sparks of blue tingling your fingers - fingers now adorned with claws as sharp as knives and a smile on your pretty pink lips, needle-pointed fangs glinting in the lamplight. Your husband, your sons, the children you hope to bear, the children you cherished as your own, your best friend, your family, the students you have nurtured, your mentor, your ancestors. That is why you were here.

The bloodshed and grief inflicted by the men in this room on souls too pure and too lovely to be tainted by their cowardice and hatred. They are reapers, harbingers of death and pain with nothing but self-interest in their minds. You had no qualms. You knew nobody would mourn.

They threatened your son.

They underestimated how far you would go to protect your family, your friends.

How far would you and Gojo go - in order to protect what future the next generation will have?

The answer came in the form of flashes of light as Gojo cleanly and quickly, better than they deserved - killed half the room in one fell swoop of his pale fingers. No pain, no suffering.

The room was drenched, soaked in blood. The room was the epicentre of corruption, of malice and malevolence, of cowardice. The room - the room where a safer future unfurled.

You knelt, beside the chairman, the author of all of the death warrants, the author of your grief.

“Let me recite a prayer - a final prayer.”

“A prayer? Did you give Yuuji time to pray? Did you give Riko? Did you pray for Satoru when he was sealed? Did you pray for me - or for my son?”

“I pray to the gods -”

“You will pray to nobody.” You turn his head with piercing sharp claws on his cheek.

“If you insist on a prayer - you will pray to me, for I am your God now.”

In seconds, the 6 men on your side of the room were dead. No pain, no suffering. You were not cruel. Nobody deserved a painful or cruel death, these men were old - none below 80, they had lived lives. None would mourn for them, not for their callous disregard for life and love, and not for the heartless behaviour.

The room was drenched, soaked in blood. The room was the epicentre of corruption, of malice and malevolence, of cowardice. The room - brought into the light by the Six Eyes, and where hope bloomed - nurtured by the Dryad.

Recommended Listening:

What Could Have Been - Sting ft. Ray Chen

#gojo fluff #family formations extras #family formations incorrect quotes #jjk incorrect quotes #megumi fushiguro #gojo smut #geto suguru #pixie writes: family formations #jjk spoilers #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader

[mewmewpercy]

The Luofu Rundown

So it's come to my attention that a lot of people don't quite understand some of the lore so I'm gonna explain it as best as I can.

So number one is that we've gotta understand it's confusing as absolute fuck. Even for me. I know the story well but it took a lil time and research to understand as much as I do now.

Okay so first thing: The story is unfinished. Yes. It's unfinished. That was for a reason. We learn really early on that there are 7 Xianzhou ships run by the 7 Arbiter-Generals. It was briefly mentioned in the 2.1 Special Program that we will be revisiting the Xianzhou soon. It's also kind of implied that it's a "to be continued" with Jingliu's companion quest as well as us not knowing what really happened to the Luofu and Jing Yuan after the Stellaron crisis was resolved and the whole Phantylia bit.

Second thing: Let me just break down the very many groups brought up and their relations to this story. Phantylia is a Lord Ravager. The Lord Ravagers are emanators of Destruction. She took Tingyun's form so that nobody would know it was her and then killed the body and took the form she had in the boss battle. That form was killed but not Phantylia herself. Jing Yuan relied on the chance of her wanting to turn him into a pawn so that he could have her linked to him which is when he summoned the Lightning Lord and told Dan Heng to stab him.

Next up we've got the Abundance aka Yaoshi. Yaoshi's "blessing" of long life was more of a curse to the people because the mind and body aren't meant to live that long which is what the whole mara-struck thing is. Luocha is linked to this which is why he's basically on Jing Yuan's watchlist and the whole reason he was brought to the Shackling Prison and why Jing Yuan was interrogating him in Scalegorge Waterscape during Jingliu's quest. And also because he wanted to talk about Jingliu but unrelated.

Another kinda confusing faction that we actually don't know much about is the High Cloud Quintet. To sum it up basically about 8 centuries before our current time there was a legendary group of five heroes who were called the High Cloud Quintet. Baiheng was a foxian starskiff pilot who died during a war. Her death is what spelled the beginning of the end for this group. Dan Feng was the High Elder of the Vidyhadara. The old Imbibitor Lunae. He tried to illegally use a charm to bring her back and of course the Preceptors(like a council of the Vidyhadara) disapproved and ordered he be imprisoned and forced an exuviation charm onto him which forced him into molting rebirth. He was the past incarnation of Dan Heng. Yingxing is basically past Blade. He used to be a short life species but got turned into a long life species which has made him unable to die despite his many tries. Jingliu was the old Sword Champion and renowned for her skills on the battlefield. She was Jing Yuan's old master and trained him from a very young age. Her companion quest implies she cared very deeply for Baiheng with her wanting to preform a foxian soul soothing ceremony because Baiheng never got one. Based on timeline Baiheng's death may have been the reason she became mara-struck in the first place. Jing Yuan is the only one who remained of the Quintet when everything went to shit. He is now one of the 7 Arbiter-Generals and leads the Cloud Knights of the Luofu. He has the blessing of the Aeon Lan which is what gifted him the Lightning Lord and is passed on through the Generals. Although he doesn't say it outright it's pretty obvious what happened to the Quintet stays with him but he pushes it down to avoid becoming mara-struck.

Another thing people forget: While there was a Stellaron crisis that was the Express' initial reason for visiting that was not our focus pretty early on. Once we caught wind of the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus(basically a kinda cult who follow Yaoshi) our focus shifted and then Phantylia killed Tingyun's body and she was our target. Welt states at one point after the boss fight later on in the timeline that the stellaron was taken care of.

Some people also don't understand Dan Heng's part in the story and I'll admit there's a few things I don't understand myself but I know a bit. The reason he avoided the Luofu at first was because he grew up in the Shackling Prison and that obviously messed him up. He came on when he wasn't getting responses to our texts because as much as it hurt him he cared about his Express family more. Whenever we switch to his perspective we learn more about the past and what he's running from. It all comes to a head when we get to Waterscape and Blade is there with Kafka and Yanqing. Yanqing tries to stop Blade and Dan Heng when he figures out they're actually both criminals because it's his job as Lieutenant to protect the Luofu. I'll admit I don't know what about getting stabbed made Dan Heng unlock his Imbibitor Lunae form but that happens. Jing Yuan arrives and blah blah blah boss fight. I know it's somewhat linked to the exuviation charm because we find out it was incomplete and is the reason he retains some memories of the past but that's where my own knowledge ends sadly.

Another quick tidbit people miss: The Stellaron Hunters, The Express, and Jing Yuan all had different intentions for what they did. Blade was there to get revenge because he blames Dan Feng for who he is now. Kafka was basically stirring the pot. Jing Yuan was using everyone like pawns on a chessboard so that he could battle Phantylia and save the Luofu(He ain't the Divine Foresight for nothin I guess). The Express Crew were there to stop the Stelleron crisis at first but shifted focus. Dan Heng only joined this purpose when he was fearing for his friends safety.

I think I covered everything. I dunno send an ask if there's anything confusing I'm always down to yap about this stuff and these characters.

#honkai star rail #jing yuan #dan heng #hsr blade #hsr kafka #this was so much longer than i intended #pure yapfest out here sorry